MY   IMPRESSIONS   OF  AMERICA 


A  LIST 

OF  BOOKS  BY 
CHARLES  WAGNER 

r 

Wayside  Talks 

On  Life's  Threshold 

The  Better  Way 

The  Simple  Life 

My  Appeal  to  America 

By  the  Fireside 

Justice 


MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

BY 

CHARLES    WAGNER 
h 

Translated  from  the  French  by  Mary  Louise  llcndce 


New  York 

McClure,  Phillips  %  Co. 
Mcmvi 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
McCLURE,   PHILLIPS  &  CO. 

Published,  September,  1906,  N 


TO 

JBoosebelt 


PRESIDENT    OF    THE    UNITED    STATES 

GREAT-HEARTED,  PEACE-LOVING  ; 

TO  HIS  HOME,  AND  TO  THE  PEOPLE  OF 

THE  UNITED  STATES 


334259 


TO    MY   AMERICAN    READERS 

WITH  the  appearance  of  the  American 
edition  of  this  book,  I  owe  my  dear 
friends  on  the  other  side  of  the  At 
lantic  a  word  of  explanation.  They  must  not  look 
for  anything  new  here,  because  they  themselves,  and 
their  own  country,  which  they  know  much  better 
than  I  do,  are  the  subject  of  what  I  write;  they 
will  find  merely  an  echo  of  impressions  gathered 
in  their  midst,  by  a  guest  to  whom  they  gave  such 
a  welcome  as  few  men  have  ever  received. 

If  these  impressions  are  characterised  by  a  very 
manifest  optimism,  it  may  be  attributed,  in  the  first 
place,  to  the  delight  of  a  tour  in  which  everybody 
vied  with  everybody  else  in  delicate  attentions  to  the 
traveller ;  and  furthermore  the  cause  may  be  sought 
in  his  mental  proclivities  and  moral  convictions. 

Certainly  he  does  not  belong  in  the  number  of 
those  who  are  blind  to  evil ;  quite  otherwise.  He  sees 
it,  and  suffers  cruelly  because  of  it,  especially  when 
he  discovers  it  among  those  whom  he  loves.  But 
it  seems  to  him  that  in  the  midst  of  the  gloomy 
and  tangled  forest  of  human  wickedness  and  cor 
ruption,  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  join  in  the 


viii      TO   MY    AMERICAN    READERS 

pursuit  of  that  rare  bird,  the  Good,  that  the  sight 
of  it  may  fill  us  with  the  courage  and  strength  to 
put  the  evil  to  rout. 

Should  this  guest  of  a  great  people,  whom  he 
was  visiting  for  the  first  time  and  for  so  short  a 
while,  have  begun  by  setting  himself  up  as  a  critic 
and  censor  of  whatever  might  offend  him,,  seeking 
to  bring  out  the  shades  in  the  picture  spread  before 
his  eyes?  He  thought  not.  He  chose  rather  to 
dwell  upon  the  lights,  which  everywhere  drew  his 
regard  and  filled  him  with  admiration,  in  order 
that  he  might  be  able  to  carry  back  inspiring  re 
membrances  to  his  own  countrymen. 

If,  in  time,  new  experiences  of  travel  and  the 
strengthening  of  faithful  friendships  increase  both 
his  qualifications  and  his  right  to  speak  of  things 
American,  an  opportunity  may  be  given  him  to 
touch  effectively  upon  certain  burning  questions 
which  are  now  confronting  the  conscience  of  the 
foremost  democracy  of  the  world.  In  that  event, 
he  will  certainly  accept  it  with  all  the  sincerity 
and  goodwill  merited  by  this  people,  to  whom  he 
has  given  a  unique  place  in  his  heart. 

CHARLES  WAGNER. 
PARIS,  May  16,  1906. 


PREFACE 

IN  going  to  the  United  States,  I  had  a  definite 
object — to  come  near  to  the  centre  of  the 
nation's  life,  in  order  to  get  an  idea  of  the 
inmost  sources  of  its  extraordinary  activity.  The 
observations  such  an  aim  renders  permissible  are 
of  so  intimate  a  nature,  that  a  visitor  confined  to 
the  ordinary  means  of  informing  himself  would 
encounter  obstacles  almost  insurmountable.  For  me 
the  way  was  everywhere  smoothed  by  entertainment 
in  private  homes.  I  did  not  go  to  visit  a  land  but 
to  live  among  brothers,  and  it  is  that  which  gives 
these  impressions  their  significance. 

In  recording  them  I  have  been  reduced  entirely 
to  the  resources  of  memory,  not  having  found  time 
to  make  notes;  but,  fragmentary  as  they  are,  my 
heart  would  not  have  acquitted  me  unless  I  had  set 
them  down.  I  offer  them  now  in  a  twofold  trib 
ute  to  my  fellow-countrymen  and  to  all  my  Ameri 
can  friends,  whose  cordial  hospitality  I  can  never 
forget. 
PARIS,  December,  1905. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  FIRST  TIES t  3 

II.  THE  OBSTACLES Q 

III.  ENTER  MR.  JOHN  WANAMAKER   .     .  12 

IV.  OUT  AT  SEA 14 

V.  THE  FIRE  SIGNAL 19 

VI.  THE  AWAKENING  IN  PORT      ...  22 

VII.  ON  THE  PIER 0     25 

VIII.  THE  FIRST  CITY  SIGHTS    ....  c     28 

IX.  ESCAPE  INTO  THE  COUNTRY    ...  34 

X.  SLEEPY  HOLLOW  CEMETERY    ...  r     30 

XI.  FIRST  SPEECH  IN  ENGLISH  '    .      .      .  .39 

XII.    LlNDENHURST 41 

XIII.  OUT  FOR  A  STROLL 45 

XIV.  A  SIESTA  AND  ITS  SEQUEL      ....     50 
XV.  A  VISIT  AT  THE  WHITE  HOUSE   ...     54 

XVI.  A  DRIVE  AT  CORNWALL-ON-THE-HUDSON    69 
XVII.  A  DAY  AT  BETHANY  CHURCH      ...     75 

XVIII.  RELIGIOUS  LIFE 90 

XIX.  THE  BIBLE  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  .      .   103 

XX.  WITH  THE  FRIENDS 112 

XXI.  THE  GUEST  OF  ISRAEL  .   119 


xii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XXII.  OUR  BLACK  BROTHERS       ....   129 

XXIII.  INDUSTRY  AND  WEALTH     ....   144 

XXIV.  RELAXATION  ........   154 

XXV.  THE  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS 159 

XXVI.  HIGH  SCHOOLS 166 

XXVII.  UNIVERSITIES 172 

XXVIII.  MOUNT  HOLYOKE  COLLEGE     .      .      .178 

XXIX.  DOCTOR  HONORIS  CAUSA   ....   184 

XXX.  A  QUAKER  REFORMATORY       .      .      .189 

XXXI.  THE  BOWERY  MISSION       .     .     .      .196 

XXXII.  LECTURES  AND  AUDIENCES      .      .      .  201 

XXXIII.  A  LESSON  CARRIED  FROM  THE  BLIND 

TO  THOSE  WHO  SEE    ....  207 

XXXIV.  HOMES  AND  HOSPITALITY  .      .     .     .215 
XXXV.  THE  AMERICAN  TEMPERAMENT    .      .  227 

XXXVI.  SYMPATHIES  WITH  FRANCE      .     .      .  235 

XXXVII.  AN  AMUSING  LITTLE  BLUNDER    .      .  242 

XXXVIII.  IN  THE  CHICAGO  STOCK- YARDS    .      .   246 

XXXIX.  DEAN,  MY  KEEPER 250 

XL.  A  VISION  OF  RIVERS 255 

XLI.  "THE    SIMPLE    LIFE"    INTERPRETED 

IN  OAK 259 

XLII.  AMERICA'S  STRONGHOLDS    ....  263 
XLIII.  A  DINNER  WITH  HEROES  ....  270 

XLIV.  AMERICAN  SIMPLICITY 279 

XLV.  ADIEUX  TO  WASHINGTON   .      .      .      .291 
XLVI.  THE  WHITE  HOUSE  LECTURE  .  295 


MY   IMPRESSIONS   OF  AMERICA 


I 

FIRST    TIES 

IT  was  in  1891,  when  as  yet  I  knew  nothing  of 
America  save  what  I  had  learned  from  chance 
books,  that  during  a  call  upon  Mme.  Blaze 
de  Bury  I  was  presented  to  a  young  American 
woman,,  well  known  in  her  own  country  for  her 
delightful  writings,  Grace  King  of  New  Orleans. 
She  was  well  acquainted  with  French,  and  her 
mind,  active,  and  at  variance  with  tradition  on 
many  points,  was  greatly  occupied  with  moral  and 
religious  questions,  as  I  was  then  presenting  them, 
in  the  endeavour  to  bring  them  into  as  close  rela 
tion  as  possible  with  the  spirit  of  our  time.  This 
meeting  was  followed  by  long  talks  between  us, 
and  Miss  King  became  a  faithful  listener  at  the 
salle  Beaumarchais.  She  wrote  about  my  missionary 
labours,  for  an  American  review,  and  before  leav 
ing  Paris,  made  me  acquainted  with  Miss  Louise 
Sullivan  of  New  York,  who  like  her  friend  became 
a  regular  attendant  at  our  meetings.  After  their 
return  home,  these  two  young  women  did  not  fail 

to  write  me  from  time  to  time.  Grace  King  brought 
3 


4       MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

me  into  ttxuch  with  the.  Outlook  and  its  editor,  Dr. 
Lyman  Abbott;  aint  'translated  my  American  pref 
ace  to  "  Youth,"  the  book  through  which  the  pub 
lishers,  Messrs.  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company,  made 
my  thought  known  in  the  United  States. 

When,  in  1901,  Miss  Mary  Louise  Hendee  had 
translated  "  The  Simple  Life  "  for  the  house  of 
McClure,  Phillips  and  Company,  Miss  King  under 
took  the  task  of  writing  a  biographical  introduction 
to  the  book,  and  the  accuracy  of  her  information 
and  the  grace  of  style  that  distinguishes  her  work, 
are  worthy  of  all  praise.  Her  preface,  wherein  may 
be  found  the  history  of  my  thought  and  a  charac 
terisation  of  my  liberal  propaganda  of  the  eternal 
Gospel,  is  like  a  banner  flung  wide. 

To-day,  when  so  many  delightful  encounters  with 
Americans  have  followed  these  first  acquaintances, 
I  take  great  pleasure  in  going  back  to  the  begin 
ning  of  it  all.  One  of  my  regrets  in  connection 
with  my  visit  to  the  United  States,  is  that  lack  of 
time  forbade  my  penetrating  to  a  point  so  far  dis 
tant  as  New  Orleans.  Let  us  hope  that  it  is  only 
a  pleasure  deferred. 

After  the  appearance  of  "  The  Simple  Life," 
from  the  McClure  house,  the  points  of  contact 


FIRST    TIES  5 

with  America  multiplied.  I  had  received  many  let 
ters  relating  to  "  Youth/'  I  now  received  many 
more  about  "  The  Simple  Life/'  and  from  time  to 
time  some  American,,  tarrying  a  little  in  Paris, 
came  to  shake  hands  with  me  after  the  sermon  in 
the  Boulevard  Beaumarchais.  These  expressions  of 
sympathy  rejoiced  my  heart,  but  there  the  matter 
rested.  Things  went  on  in  this  way  till  the  vaca 
tion  time  of  1902,  where  the  memorable  speech  of 
President  Roosevelt  at  Bangor  belongs,  a  speech 
soon  followed  by  another,  in  the  Masonic  Temple 
at  Philadelphia,  on  the  occasion  of  the  one  hundred 
and  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  reception  of  George 
Washington  into  the  society  of  American  Masons. 
In  both  these  addresses,  though  in  different  terms, 
the  President  expressed  the  wish  that  "  The  Simple 
Life  "  might  be  known  and  read  from  one  end  of 
the  country  to  the  other,  as  a  practical  treatise  on 
right  living. 

If,  then,  I  have  been  able  to  visit  America,  to 
make  the  never-to-be-forgotten  tour  just  finished,  I 
owe  it  to  America's  great  President.  But  first  the 
question  of  this  journey  had  to  be  decided,  nor 
was  preparation  for  it  to  be  devoid  of  obstacles  and 
labour,  as  I  now  intend  briefly  to  set  forth. 


II 

THE    OBSTACLES 

MY  career  is  not  that  of  a  man  of  letters, 
I  am  not  a  writer  by  profession;  the 
writer  as  well  as  the  preacher  comes 
after  the  man  in  me;  and  the  man  is  so  rooted  in 
his  family  and  in  his  work,  that  the  idea  had  never 
occurred  to  me  or  to  any  one  belonging  to  me,  to 
the  members  of  either  my  smaller  family  or  my 
greater  one,  that  I  could  go  away  for  any  consid 
erable  length  of  time.  In  earlier  days,  I  had  under 
taken  trips  through  France,  Alsace,  Belgium  and 
Switzerland,  to  preach  and  lecture,  and  always  with 
very  encouraging  results;  but  bereavements  in  my 
home,  and  increasing  duties  in  connection  with  the 
religious,  social  and  educational  work  of  my  Paris 
charge,  had  gradually  restricted  the  number  of 
these  tours.  Besides,  the  longest  of  them  had  occu 
pied  not  more  than  fifteen  days,  the  later  ones  not 
more  than  two  or  three,  and  they  had  occurred  only 
at  long  intervals.  I  had  become  the  man  who  never 
went  abroad  in  the  world,  the  man  whose  duty  it 
was  always  to  stay  at  home.  So,  at  all  events,  my 


THE    OBSTACLES  7 

friends  at  home  thought,  as  did  even  some  of  those 
in  America.  The  Craftsman,  having  heard  of  my 
projected  trip,  manifested  astonishment  at  the  idea, 
amicable,  to  be  sure,  but  very  real.  Leave  this  man, 
it  said,  in  his  normal  place;  we  don't  transplant 
full-grown  oaks. 

My  own  mind,  however,  was  clear  in  the  matter, 
for  my  rule  of  life  has  always  been  to  take  my 
labour  of  sower  wherever  I  discover  good  ground. 
The  letters  and  visits  I  had  received  from  Ameri 
cans,  had  created  the  conviction  within  me  that  an 
immense  and  receptive  field  across  the  sea  lay  open 
to  the  ideas  for  which  I  lived  and  worked  in  my 
own  country.  Now  whosoever  is  receptive  toward  us, 
from  him  we  may  also  receive,  all  the  relations  be 
tween  men's  minds  are  based  upon  reciprocity;  I 
was  certain  that  if  I  had  a  message  for  America, 
she  had  one  for  me,  a  niessage  which  in  its  fulfil 
ment  might  influence  very  greatly  my  activity  at 
home.  Hence  I  ought  to  go,  and  within  myself 
the  matter  was  settled. 

But  in  making  such  a  decision  as  this,  those 
nearest  us  should  be  consulted.  I  therefore  con 
sulted  my  parishioners,  who  understood  me  and 
gave  me  God-speed;  and  then  my  family,  my  wife 


8       MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF  AMERICA 

and  children;  for  if  children  are  to  be  without  the 
presence  of  their  father  for  several  months,  ought 
they  not  to  know  something  of  why  it  is?  as  they 
must  suffer  a  deprivation,  they  deserve  at  least  to 
know  the  reason. 

I  shall  always  remember  that  little  family  coun 
cil,  in  Touraine,  under  the  beautiful  cedar  trees 
of  the  Commanderie,  the  hospitable  country-house 
where  we  were  staying.  My  wife,  my  two  daugh 
ters,  and  my  little  Jean,  were  beside  me.  The  sun 
light  played  at  our  feet  among  the  moving  shad 
ows  of  the  branches.  I  explained  that  though  the 
thought  of  separation  from  my  dear  ones  gave  me 
pain,  yet  I  had  such  strong  reasons  for  visiting 
America  as  to  make  me  feel  that  the  voice  of  God 
Himself  was  calling  me  to  go.  And  they  all  said, 
"  Oh,  yes,  papa,  you  ought  to  go,  and  we  will  do 
all  we  can  to  make  it  easy  for  you  to  be  away." 
Then  we  had  a  good,  short  prayer,  to  give  the 
whole  matter  and  ourselves  into  the  hands  of  God. 
***** 

I  had  two  oceans  to  cross:  the  Atlantic  and  the 
English  grammar.  Every  time  hitherto  that  I  had 
ventured  into  the  deeps  of  English,  I  had  emerged 
discouraged.  Impossible  to  acquire  this  language — 


THE    OBSTACLES  9 

above  all  else,  to  pronounce  it!  But  now  I  was  to 
learn  by  experience  what  a  stimulus  to  study,  or 
to  any  sort  of  work,  comes  from  love  and  necessity. 
Before  the  project  of  going  to  America  arose,  I 
studied  English  simply  out  of  curiosity;  but  from 
the  moment  the  idea  of  making  this  tour  took  pos 
session  of  me,  I  studied  out  of  love,  a  real  and 
deep  love  for  this  people  as  yet  invisible  to  my 
eyes,  but  whom  I  foresaw  to  be  worthy  of  all 
affection.  Suddenly  the  English  appeared  to  me  a 
delightful  tongue,  and  to  hear  it  spoken  or  read 
it  became  my  favourite  occupation.  My  teachers, 
among  whom  I  shall  always  remember  especially 
the  Virginian,  Mr.  MacBryde,  had  reason  to  be 
gratified  with  my  assiduity.  Yet  I  had  to  work  in 
the  midst  of  constant  interruptions;  there  was  no 
regularity  about  it,  as  I  was  always  at  the  mercy 
of  those  unforeseen  demands  which  are  constantly 
made  upon  a  clergyman,  or  the  call  of  some  im 
portunate  visitor.  In  the  depths  of  my  tribulations, 
I  thought  of  the  Jews,  rebuilding  Jerusalem  after 
the  exile,  with  a  trowel  in  one  hand  and  a  spear 
in  the  other.  Often  at  night,  after  a  fatiguing  day, 
I  felt  discouraged ;  the  English  was  not  going  well, 
and  I  said  to  myself  that  I  should  never  learn  it. 


10    MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

But  the  next  morning  I  went  back  to  it  with  re 
newed  ardour.  For,  social  being  that  I  am,  I  should 
find  it  intolerable  to  travel  in  a  country  whose  lan 
guage  I  neither  spoke  nor  understood;  that  would 
be  condemnation  to  the  role  of  the  deaf  and  dumb. 
And  then,  while  the  general  understanding  was 
that  I  should  lecture  in  French,  those  of  my  friends 
who  were  most  interested  in  my  projected  tour,  de 
clared  that  unless  I  spoke  English,  I  should  not 
really  come  into  touch  with  the  American  people, 
but  only  with  a  few  exclusive  groups.  So,  at  what 
ever  cost,  I  must  conquer  the  language;  for  what 
I  desired  was  to  reach  that  promiscuous  audience 
in  which  one  finds  all  the  elements  of  a  population. 
Some  very  prudent  ones  among  my  Parisian  friends 
said,  "  Above  all  things,  don't  think  of  speaking 
English  in  public;  you  will  make  yourself  ridicu 
lous  " ;  and  letters  from  Geneva  brought  the  same 
warning;  but  I  judged  it  better  to  defer  to  the 
wishes  of  those  who  wrote :  "  Speak  English  to  us, 
however  poorly  equipped  you  may  be,  so  long  as 
you  can  make  yourself  understood."  So  I  continued 
to  throw  myself  heart  and  soul  into  English. 

While  I  was  struggling  on,  with  new  difficulties 
for  ever  presenting  themselves,  I  received  a  call 


THE    OBSTACLES  11 

from  the  actor  Delorme  of  the  Renaissance  Theatre. 
He  came  to  offer  me  lessons  in  French  diction, 
which  he  had  given  to  many  of  my  colleagues,  both 
Protestant  and  Catholic.  "  Retro  Satanas! "  was 
my  reply  to  him,  and  I  quoted  Goethe's  words: 
"  Yes,  a  comedian  may  teach  a  clergyman,  provided 
the  clergyman  be  himself  a  comedian."  When  he 
was  already  at  the  door,  quite  grieved  at  the  re 
ception  he  had  got,  he  said  a  few  words  in  English. 
"What!"  I  exclaimed,  "do  you  know  English?" 
"  I  not  only  know  it,  but  I  have  played  Shakespeare 
in  the  United  States,"  was  his  answer.  "  You  are 
the  very  man  I  need,  after  all,"  I  declared,  draw 
ing  him  back  into  my  office;  and  then  and  there  he 
gave  me  my  first  lesson  in  English  extempore  speak 
ing.  He  gradually  habituated  me  to  the  proper 
pronunciation  and  inflection,  and  during  the  vaca 
tion,  in  the  country,  we  had  sessions  of  work  to 
gether  that  lasted  from  morning  till  night,  during 
which  I  addressed  to  my  tireless  and  scrupulous 
auditor,  lectures,  sermons  and  speeches  of  all  sorts, 
striving  to  carry  over  from  one  language  into  the 
other,  the  whole  repertory  of  my  ideas.  In  my 
leisure  moments  I  spoke  English  to  myself,  and 
eventually  I  thought  in  English. 


Ill 

ENTER    MR.    JOHN    WANAMAKER 

ONE  morning  in  June,  or  thereabouts,,  1Q03, 
I  received  a  note  signed  John  Wana- 
maker,  asking  for  an  appointment  to  meet 
me.  The  handwriting  was  decided,  nervous  and  com 
pact.  I  knew  only  two  things  about  the  signer  of 
the  note,  that  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  of  Ameri 
can  merchants,  and  that  he  was  very  fond  of  my 
book,  "  The  Simple  Life/'  of  which  he  had  dis 
tributed  innumerable  copies.  I  went  to  see  him,  but, 
alas !  we  could  not  talk  together ;  neither  his  French 
nor  my  English  was  equal  to  it;  yet  we  understood 
each  other.  When,  in  the  summer  of  1904,  we  met 
again,  we  were  able  to  carry  on  a  consecutive  con 
versation  in  English. 

From  the  moment  my  journey  was  decided  upon, 
no  one  was  more  helpful  to  me  than  Mr.  Wana- 
maker.  He  gave  me  all  the  necessary  advice  and 
preliminary  information,  and  he  invited  me  to  spend 
the  first  fortnight  of  my  sojourn  in  America  at  his 
country  place,  Lindenhurst,  to  get  acclimated.  He 


ENTER    MR.    JOHN    WANAMAKER   13 

visited  my  family  and  my  congregation,  and  as 
sured  them  that  he  would  take  care  of  the  pastor 
and  the  father,  and  send  him  back  to  France  safe 
and  sound,  a  promise  he  did  not  fail  scrupulously 
to  fulfil. 

I  set  sail  on  La  Lorraine,  in  September,  1Q04, 
with  M.  Xavier  Koenig  as  travelling  companion  and 
secretary.  In  my  cabin,  among  the  letters  and  tele 
grams  from  French  friends,  to  wish  me  bon  voyage, 
was  this  cable  message  from  Mr.  Wanamaker: 
"  America  welcomes  you !  " 


IV 

OUT    AT    SEA 

THE  first  day  out,  I  encountered  Mr.  Levi 
P.  Morton,  formerly  United  States  Min 
ister  to  France,  and  his  family.  We  had 
already  been   acquainted   for  some  time;   now  we 
could  talk  together  at  our  ease  about  the  unknown 
country  whither  I  was  bound. 

Our  great  modern  transatlantic  steamships  are 
marvels  of  human  skill;  the  slowest  and  least  com 
fortable  among  them  would  have  seemed  a  "  floating 
palace  "  to  our  forefathers ;  but  to  me  the  most  im 
pressive  thing  about  them  is  the  fact  that  whenever 
one  of  them  sets  sail,  it  is  freighted  with  all  the 
social  questions — indeed,  with  all  human  questions. 
To  begin  with,  it  continues  upon  the  ocean  our 
class  divisions,  which  are  well  characterised  by  its 
state-rooms  de  luxe,  its  first  and  second  cabins,  with 
their  deck  barriers,  and  its  steerage.  Officers  and 
crew  might  be  taken  to  represent  the  army  in  its 
various  grades,  while  the  personal  servants  as  well 

as  the  engineering  corps,  the  cooks,   the  bakers, 
14 


OUT    AT    SEA  15 

and  the  rest,  stand  for  the  great  host  of  working 
people. 

I  should  have  been  very  glad  to  go  about  among 
all  these  folk,  especially  to  have  made  acquaintance 
with  the  emigrants,  learned  their  histories,  their 
reasons  for  leaving  their  native  land,  and  their 
hopes  for  the  future.  Seven  long  days  at  sea  with 
nothing  to  do  but  come  and  go!  What  harvests  of 
information  might  be  gathered  from  chatting  fa 
miliarly  with  men,  women  and  children!  And  why 
did  I  not  do  this?  For  a  very  simple  reason:  at 
that  particular  moment,  alas!  though  in  mind  I 
was  greatly  inclined  to  the  enterprise,  in  body  I 
was  altogether  averse,  and  from  the  moment  the 
plebeian  and  humiliating  phenomenon  that  mani 
fests  itself  among  inexperienced  sailors,  appeared 
in  my  case,  every  vestige  of  the  desire  to  fraternise 
with  my  neighbours  vanished.  A  vague,  gray  misery 
overcame  me  the  second  day  out,  and  did  not  begin 
to  diminish  until  the  fourth.  During  one  of  my 
lucid  moments  in  this  unhappy  time,  I  made  a 
horrifying  discovery:  /  had  forgotten  my  English! 
It  was  good  fortune  if  I  even  found  words  to  ex 
press  myself  in  my  customary  tongue.  A  few  Ger 
man  terms,  such  as  Katzen jammer,  stuck  vaguely 


16     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

here  and  there  in  my  memory,  like  empty  picture 
frames  left  behind  in  a  dismantled  apartment;  but 
of  English,  not  a  trace ! 

When  we  were  six  days  out,  the  winds  grew  calm, 
the  clouds  broke  away,  and  a  warm  sun  flooded  the 
sea  and  the  decks.  Immediately  the  faces  of  the 
passengers  began  to  clear,  and  all  day  long  voices 
were  heard  singing  on  the  emigrants'  deck,  high 
voices,  deep  voices,  the  voices  of  Italians,  men's, 
women's  and  children's  voices,  all  intermingled.  It 
was  charming;  it  bore  within  it  a  whole  tradition 
of  a  sunny  fatherland,  of  poetry  and  of  poverty. 
It  recalled  blue  seas,  and  violet  mountains,  groves 
of  palm  and  olive,  orange  and  laurel.  It  was  a  song 
with  a  soul. 

The  first-cabin  passengers  had  an  orchestra  at 
their  disposal,  but  the  idea  of  singing,  above  all 
things,  of  singing  together,  seemed  never  to  occur 
to  them.  I  wonder  why. 

Its  powerful  screw  beating  and  cleaving  the  salty 
waves,  ceaselessly  the  great  ship  bears  us  on,  our 
bodies,  our  souls,  our  destinies,  our  virtues  and 
our  vices;  all  of  us  sharing  a  life  in  common  for 
the  moment,  yet  at  bottom  not  by  any  means  "  in 
the  same  boat."  There  is  sadness  in  the  thought 


OUT    AT    SEA  17 

that  all  these  men  can  breathe  the  same  air,  be 
drawn  into  this  close  contact  for  a  number  of  days, 
that  a  sudden  shipwreck  would  give  their  bodies 
the  same  waves  for  a  winding-sheet,  and  yet  that 
they  are  no  more  conscious  than  ever  of  their 
brotherhood.  A  magnificent  construction  like  a  mod 
ern  liner  is  a  witness  to  our  mechanical  greatness 
and  our  scientific  progress;  but  surely  we  may  see 
in  it  striking  proof  of  our  moral  poverty  and  social 
atrophy.  There  are  many  crossings  yet  to  be  made 
before  we  enter  the  fraternal  city. 

It  was  night,  and  I  had  gone  alone  into  the  bow, 
under  the  stars.  There  you  know  that  you  are  mov 
ing  forward;  you  feel  as  though  a  great  eagle  had 
taken  you  on  its  wings,  and  were  bearing  you  across 
the  fields  of  the  air;  your  whole  body  is  movement, 
your  whole  soul  aspiration.  What  is  waiting  behind 
the  veil  of  this  western  darkness?  To-morrow  the 
American  shores  will  lie  gray  along  the  horizon ; 
what  manner  of  men  are  we  to  meet  there?  what 
adventures,  what  experiences  shall  we  have?  And 
as  a  man  about  to  enter  into  the  midst  of  a  new 
race,  I  already  breathe  their  natal  air,  I  divine 
them,  I  stretch  out  my  hands  to  unknown  friends. 
But  all  at  once,  full  in  the  flush  of  joy  at  thought 


18     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF  AMERICA 

of  the  speedy  landing,  anguish  seizes  upon  my 
heart,  and  a  mocking  voice  cries  within  me :  "  When 
you  open  your  mouth  among  these  people,  they  will 
look  at  one  another  and  ask,  '  What  language  is  this 
man  speaking  ?  ' : 


THE    FIRE    SIGNAL 

FIRES!  fires!  steady,  intermittent;  enormous 
eyes,  darting  flamboyant  glances  into  the 
night;  revolving  lights,  sweeping  the  hori 
zon  with  their  sheaf-like  rays.  Flames  and  more 
flames, — red,  green,  a  whole  symphony  of  signals; 
like  stars,  like  comets,  meteors,  flashes  of  lightning, 
great  torches !  What  enchantment,  to  arrive  in  this 
way,  saluted  by  light  in  the  middle  of  the  night! 
And  this  light  means  man.  In  the  vast  darkness 
and  melancholy  silence  of  mid-ocean,  let  but  a  lit 
tle  flickering  ray  appear,  and  at  once  we  think, 
there  are  men !  On  all  the  seas  of  the  round  world, 
the  twinkling  lights  of  the  night  announce  the  pres 
ence  of  man.  They  signal  to  one  another,  "  Here 
are  your  fellows."  What  food  for  thought  in  these 
trembling  beacons !  Now  we  are  really  at  the  land, 
yet  nothing  in  nature  indicates  it  to  our  eyes ;  mid 
night  makes  all  alike,  confuses  in  one  blackness, 
sea  and  shore,  shelving  beach  and  threatening  cliffs. 

Were  it  not  for  man,  we  should  see  nothing  but 
19 


20     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

darkness,  fearful  darkness,  full  of  dangers.  But 
man  has  made  light  by  which  we  may  trim  our 
sails  and  guide  our  way;  and  how  many  other 
things  do  we  not  owe  to  this  light!  Almost  all 
man's  works  speak  of  humanity,  of  its  poverty  or 
its  magnificence,  its  deformities  or  its  beauties,  and 
these  lights  speak  of  goodwill.  They  greet  us  and 
give  us  information ;  "  Hither  is  your  way,"  they 
say,  "  come  and  welcome !  "  They  announce  the 
dwellings  of  men,  the  hearth  and  the  family  table, 
populous  streets  and  the  hives  of  the  world's  affairs, 
where  toiling  labourers  come  and  go  in  thousands. 
The  vessel  slackens  speed,  and  a  boat  draped  in 
lights  comes  out  to  meet  us,  bringing  the  pilot.  A 
smaller  boat  sets  off  and  makes  its  way  to  us,  and 
a  man  boards  our  vessel;  the  black  shadow  of  a 
man  he  seems,  a  pygmy  come  to  take  his  place  on 
this  monster;  a  fly  or  an  ant,  we  think,  would  make 
as  much  impression.  And  yet  this  little  shadow 
mounting  here  is  indispensable  to  the  huge  ship; 
for  this  man  brings  more  light.  It  is  one  thing  to 
navigate  the  broad  waste  of  ocean  waters,  another 
to  enter  a  harbour.  Here  we  must  have  knowledge 
of  detail;  a  specialist  is  needed,  and  he  is  not  to 
be  replaced  by  any  geographic  science  or  any  in- 


THE    FIRE    SIGNAL  21 

genious  mechanism.  What  a  marvel  a  man  is!  The 
man  who  has  just  come  on  board  is  our  guide,  we 
are  given  into  his  hand. 

Slowly,  gently,  as  though  not  to  waken  the  slum 
bering  city,  La  Lorraine  enters  the  harbour,  and 
the  engines  stop;  we  are  to  sleep  here,  and  for  the 
first  time  in  a  week,  the  great  ship  is  at  rest.  We 
take  one  last  look  at  the  lights  behind  which 
America  lies,  and  go  to  seek  our  berths. 


E 


VI 

THE    AWAKENING    IN    PORT 

VERYTHING  is  transformed.  There  are 
no  more  fires,  they  have  all  gone  out;  but 
it  is  day,  and  through  the  port-hole  of  my 
cabin  I  look  out  upon  a  charming  picture,  a  green 
hillside,  with  villas  here  and  there,  interspersed 
with  clumps  of  trees. 

Once  on  deck,  a  magnificent  sight  fills  our  eyes — 
the  colossal  harbour  of  New  York.  The  Statue  of 
Liberty,  that  we  saw  long  ago  in  the  Paris  dock 
yard,  overtopping  all  the  buildings  about,  is  here 
only  a  figure  of  ordinary  height,  even  on  its  lofty 
pedestal,  everything  with  which  to  compare  it  is  of 
such  gigantic  proportions.  All  sorts  of  boats  are 
moving  about,  and  in  all  directions.  Ferry-boats, 
connecting  railroad  lines  on  opposite  shores  trans 
port  at  the  same  time  men,  horses,  carriages,  trucks 
and  automobiles,  and  whole  freight  trains  pass  in 
sections,  on  files  of  barges.  All  these  craft  are 
panting,  puffing,  steaming,  smoking,  whistling,  sig 
nalling  one  another  with  sirens,  and  all  the  products 
22 


THE    AWAKENING    IN    PORT       S3 

of  the  globe  are  afloat  in  them,  under  the  flags  of 
all  the  nations. 

On  raising  the  eyes  above  this  movement  in  the 
harbour,  we  are  struck  by  the  aspect  of  the  city. 
Its  tallest  buildings  are  in  the  business  section 
neighbouring  on  the  bay,  and  from  a  distance  they 
resemble  feudal  towers.  They  are  very  strange,  and 
as  you  approach  you  find  them  positively  ugly.  The 
idea  of  beauty  is  not  concerned  in  these  heaps  of 
story  piled  on  story;  they  are  tours  de  force  of  the 
art  of  building;  and  yet  I  should  be  greatly  sur 
prised  if  grace  of  line  is  never  to  be  found  in 
them.  Just  as  they  are,  they  stand  as  monuments 
of  the  commercial  power  of  the  United  States,  a 
power  which,  compressed  within  too  narrow  limits 
at  points  where  it  centres,  lances  upward  as  columns 
of  water  burst  out  of  their  imprisoning  mains. 

And  after  their  kind  they  are  also  manifestations 
of  the  impetuosity  that  nothing  can  arrest,  and  of 
the  triumphant  genius  to  which  nothing  appears 
impossible,  that  have  heaped  up  testimony  to  them 
selves  over  the  whole  area  of  this  bustling  land. 

At  first  sight,  I  frankly  confess,  the  "  sky 
scrapers  "  struck  me  as  monstrosities,  as  mush 
rooms  of  extravagant  growth,  sprung  from  the 


24     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

overstimulated  soil  of  Titanic  cities;  as  abnormal 
excrescences  arising  out  of  the  fever  and  folly  that 
are  the  issue  of  a  mad  competition  for  material 
wealth.  And  there  may  be  something  of  all  this  in 
them — a  little  of  everything,  good  and  evil,  in  their 
origin.  For  the  sake  of  aesthetics,  to  which  man's 
life  should  never  become  indifferent,  it  may  be 
hoped  that  these  phenomenal  buildings  may  remain 
the  exception. 

And  yet,  viewed  from  Brooklyn,  early  on  a  win 
ter's  evening,  the  colossal  range  of  these  Goliaths 
offers  a  unique  sight.  The  deformity  of  their  over- 
massive  shapes  disappears  in  the  twilight,  and  the 
merciful  shades  veil  their  bareness.  Gleaming  with 
all  the  fires  of  their  thousands  of  windows,  they 
now  seem  but  diaphanous  habitations  of  the  toil  of 
the  night.  For  hours  they  shine  in  all  their  splen 
dour  and  you  feel  that  within  them  work  is  at  its 
highest  tension;  then  gradually  their  lights  go  out, 
story  by  story,  till  the  wall  of  fire  becomes  a  wall 
of  blackness,  pierced  here  and  there  by  a  solitary 
star. 


VII 

ON    THE    PIER 

BUT  I  anticipate;  we  are  not  yet  ashore. 
The  whole  harbour  line  of  the  city  is  cut 
up  into  docks  like  the  stalls  of  a  stable,  and 
each  steamship  company  has  its  assigned  space.  It 
is  a  work  of  skill  to  bring  the  enormous  liners  into 
their  quarters ;  they  act  like  great  horses  that  have 
to  be  manoeuvred  backward  into  their  stalls.   But 
at  length  the  evolution  is   accomplished,   and  the 
gangway  thrown  across. 

Upon  landing,  the  first  person  I  saw  was  John 
Wanamaker,  and  his  good,  kind  face  seemed  a  sign 
of  the  happiest  augury.  During  the  long  formali 
ties  of  the  customs,  a  group  of  reporters  collected 
around  me.  It  was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I 
had  found  myself  among  so  many  strangers  note 
book  in  hand,  assailing  me  with  questions,  and  I 
had  looked  forward  to  the  moment  with  consider 
able  dread,  having  always  preferred  silence  and 
obscurity  to  the  somewhat  noisy  renown  procured 

us  by  the  newspapers.  But  now  it  seemed  the  most 
25 


26     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

natural  thing  in  the  world  to  conform  to  the  local 
custom;  besides,  these  journalists  interested  me,  as 
all  my  fellow-men  do.  They  were  of  various  ages, 
the  majority  young,  and  it  was  an  agreeable  sur 
prise  to  find  them  so  much  in  earnest.  Their 
questions  were  sensible,  pointed  but  by  no  means 
indiscreet,  and  they  impressed  me  as  men  who  un 
derstood  their  business  and  pursued  it  with  scru 
pulosity.  As  this  is  the  most  to  be  exacted  of  a 
man,  whoever  he  may  be,  I  immediately  felt  myself 
in  sympathy  with  them  personally,  so  that  our  con 
versation  was  full  of  unconstraint.  The  curiosity 
with  which  they  observed  me  from  head  to  foot 
amused  me  greatly,  and  before  the  day  was  over 
their  articles  in  the  papers  bore  witness  that  neither 
the  rustic  cut  of  my  garments  nor  the  Virgilian 
cast  of  my  footgear  had  escaped  them. 

Tradition,  seizing  upon  a  detail  of  one  of  my 
youthful  holidays,  had  made  of  me  a  shepherd  of 
the  Vosges,  occupied  quite  recently  even,  in  guard 
ing  his  sheep,  who  had  come  to  bring  the  message 
of  simplicity  that  he  had  slowly  evolved  in  the 
austere  solitudes  of  the  heights.  Perhaps  people 
were  expecting  to  see  me  dressed  in  some  uniform, 
which  I  had  come  to  recommend  urbi  et  orbi,  as 


ON    THE    PIER  27 

the  first  and  visible  sign  of  a  return  to  simplicity, 
and  I  should  have  to  begin  by  repudiating  that 
tendency  to  formalism  which  would  draw  ideas  into 
the  realm  of  material  things.  My  present  interlocu 
tors,  however,  being  quick  to  understand  and  really 
desirous  of  exact  information  as  to  my  intentions, 
it  gave  me  genuine  pleasure  to  explain  to  them 
that  simplicity  lies  neither  in  the  dress,  the  dwell 
ing  nor  the  table,  but  that  it  is  a  state  of  mind 
which  inclines  us  to  devote  life  to  the  pursuit  of  its 
proper  aim,  and  to  renounce  whatever  bears  us  in 
other  directions.  "  In  what  does  the  simple  life  con 
sist  for  us  journalists?"  they  asked  me;  "What 
message  have  you  for  us?"  "A  very  simple  mes 
sage,"  I  replied.  "  Report  only  what  is  true." 


VIII 
THE    FIRST    CITY    SIGHTS 

I  DON'T  know  what  goes  on  in  other  minds, 
we  all  differ  so,  but  the  first  impressions  of 
things  work  very  actively  upon  mine,  and 
they  strike  specially  deep  if  I  have  come  from 
far  into  unusual  surroundings.  So  the  first  morn 
ing  passed  in  New  York  found  me  peculiarly  re 
ceptive.  The  voyage  is  short  from  France  to  the 
United  States,  but  to  one  who  has  never  made  a 
longer,  it  is  something  not  to  have  put  foot  on  land 
for  seven  days.  I  was  ready  to  gaze  long  at  streets 
and  their  traffic,  at  the  train  of  vehicles  of  all  sorts, 
of  electric  cars  and  steam  cars,  circulating  pell- 
mell,  crossing  each  other's  tracks,  or  running  one 
above  another.  In  some  quarters  of  New  York,  the 
movement  of  business  is  considerably  more  tumul 
tuous  than  anywhere  in  Paris,  and  it  becomes  a 
maelstrom  in  the  vicinity  of  the  gigantic  Brooklyn 
Bridge,  where  at  the  hours  when  everybody  is  rush 
ing  to  his  work  or  home  from  it,  the  human  ant 
hill  swarms  with  the  greatest  celerity.  He  who 
28 


THE    FIRST    CITY    SIGHTS        29 

comes  suddenly  into  the  midst  of  this  agitation  out 
of  the  calm  of  an  ocean  voyage,  certainly  experi 
ences  a  most  violent  contrast.  And  what  a  difference 
for  me  between  these  quarters  of  the  city  where 
humanity  flows  in  tides,  whirls  in  eddies  and  pre 
cipitates  itself  in  cataracts,  and  the  little  hidden 
corner  of  Brittany  where  I  had  passed  the  last  few 
weeks,  given  up  to  an  intense  personal  preparation, 
meditating  like  a  knight  at  his  vigil,  and  musing  of 
the  people  beyond  the  sea !  We  should  never  com 
plain  of  these  shocks  that  life  gives  us;  there  are 
impressive  lessons  to  be  drawn  from  them,  provided 
the  heart  keeps  its  proper  attitude,  and  men  do  not 
become  for  us  simply  supernumeraries  in  a  spec 
tacle.  What  profound  human  interest  the  sight  of 
strange  crowds  should  inspire  in  us !  These  passers 
bear  about  with  them  all  the  burdens  and  problems 
of  society,  are  a  part  of  the  great  human  drama 
that  is  unfolding  and  determining  the  destinies  of 
us  all.  The  battle  is  being  waged  hourly ;  and  every 
force  is  at  play;  to  which  side  does  the  victory 
tend? 

While  I  am  fascinated  by  the  crowd,  my  eyes  are 
also  held  by  individuals,  and  how  many  new  types 
do  I  not  see  here!  First  I  notice  in  these  throngs 


30     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

that  are  elbowing  me,  more  black  faces  than  I  am 
wont  to  see.  Already,  on  the  dock,  I  had  been  struck 
by  the  powerful  build  and  sinewy  arms  of  the 
negroes;  now  I  was  encountering  negro  women  and 
children  at  every  step,  samples  of  the  black  thread 
that  has  been  woven  into  American  life.  Little  street 
Arabs,  selling  their  papers — the  adult  newspaper 
vender  is  almost  unknown — agile  and  enterprising 
little  fellows,  leap  on  passing  trolleys,  sell  their 
wares,  and  jump  off  with  their  pennies. 

Now  we  are  on  an  elevated  train,  where  you  pass 
along  at  the  level  of  the  lower  stories  of  the  houses, 
and  you  pity  those  who  live  in  the  midst  of  all  this 
smoke  and  dust  and  noise,  and  under  the  eyes  of 
the  passer.  But  this  same  passer  is  thus  given  the 
opportunity  to  see  a  great  many  interiors  in  a  short 
space  of  time.  Some  of  them  file  rapidly  by  him, 
but  others  he  may  inspect  at  leisure,  during  halts 
of  his  train,  and  almost  pay  them  a  visit.  Used  to 
making  a  round  of  calls  at  modest  homes  in  Paris, 
I  was  extremely  interested  in  all  these  revelations, 
even  those  caught  at  a  glance ; — in  the  arrangement 
of  the  rooms,  the  style  of  furniture,  the  groups  at 
table.  In  the  back  yards,  that  stretch  out  in  long 
lines  between  the  rows  of  tenement  houses,  you  see 


THE    FIRST    CITY    SIGHTS        31 

unquestionable  evidence  that  American  housewives 
do  a  great  deal  of  washing,  and  keep  their  linen 
very  white.  They  have  a  highly  ingenious  means  of 
hanging  out  clothes  from  every  story.  A  rope  runs 
from  a  pulley  just  outside  the  kitchen  window, 
passes  over  another  pulley  attached  to  a  high  pole 
at  the  back  of  the  yard,  and  returns.  In  the  sim 
plest  fashion  possible,  without  stirring  a  step,  the 
laundress  hangs  her  pieces  on  the  line,  one  by  one, 
meanwhile  pushing  the  line  out.  When  the  clothes 
are  dry,  she  takes  them  in  by  reversing  the  process. 
The  yards  are  in  general  without  any  sort  of 
cultivation,  but  in  contrast  one  is  struck  with  the 
beautiful  ivy  that  often  covers  the  fronts  of  build 
ings.  This  ivy  loses  its  leaves  in  winter,  so  that 
it  causes  no  inconvenience  from  dampness  in  the 
months  of  least  sun.  From  the  most  modest  dwell 
ings  to  the  most  elegant,  it  is  found  climbing  the 
walls,  and  is  everywhere  a  delight  to  the  eyes.  It 
gives  the  churches  an  air  of  familiarity  and  wel 
come,  it  festoons  the  windows  of  schools,  and  is  an 
element  in  an  endless  variety  of  pleasing  effects. 
New  York  is  red  from  the  brick  and  stone  of  which 
its  houses  are  built,  and  many  of  its  churches  and 
public  buildings  are  of  a  red  sandstone  that  recalls 


32     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

that  of  the  Vosges  and  the  immortal  blocks  of  the 
Strasburg  cathedral. 

In  the  course  of  this  first  day,  under  a  beautiful 
sun,  Mr.  Rowland,  of  the  Outlook,  took  us  in  an 
automobile  through  Fifth  Avenue  and  Central  Park. 
This  immense  Park,  over  two  and  a  half  miles  long, 
is  in  the  heart  of  the  city.  The  ground  is  rolling, 
even  hilly  here  and  there.  The  trees  are  left  to 
grow  naturally,  in  order  to  preserve  as  far  as  pos 
sible  a  rural  air,  and  there  are  veritable  forest 
effects,  with  such  rocks  and  wildness  as  is  ordi 
narily  only  to  be  found  far  from  cities.  The  Park 
abounds  in  birds  and  in  the  squirrels  that  inhabit 
all  American  parks,  gray  squirrels,  beautiful  crea 
tures,  and  absolutely  fearless — a  testimony  to  the 
treatment  they  receive  from  the  public.  They  are 
full  of  frolic,  and  are  the  special  delight  of  the 
children.  Some  equipages  circulate  in  the  Park,  but 
they  do  not  compare  in  number  with  those  that  roll 
through  the  Champs  Elysees  and  the  Avenue  du 
Bois  de  Boulogne. 

But  we  had  to  turn  away  from  all  these  new  and 
attractive  sights  the  great  city  had  to  offer,  and 
give  our  minds  to  business.  A  lecture  tour  is  never 
a  light  matter,  surely  not  when  there  are  many 


THE    FIRST    CITY    SIGHTS        33 

lectures,  little  time,  and  a  great  territory  to  cover. 
From  necessity  rather  than  choice,  I  had  put  my 
self  into  the  hands  of  a  Bureau  that  was  ready 
to  make  the  arrangements  and  assume  the  business 
cares  of  the  tour.  As  I  had  undertaken  this  first 
American  tour  at  my  own  risk  and  peril,  financially 
speaking,  I  am  happy  to  express  my  satisfaction 
at  the  manner  in  which  the  J.  B.  Pond  Bureau 
acquitted  itself  of  a  task  perforce  delicate  and 
complicated  by  many  difficulties. 


IX 

ESCAPE    INTO    THE    COUNTRY 

SATURATED  with  noise,  I  was  happy,  that 
afternoon,  to  accept  an  invitation  from  my 
publisher,  Mr.  McClure,  to  go  to  pass  Sun 
day  at  his   country  place,   "  The   Homestead,"   at 
Ardsley-on-the-Hudson. 

The  Hudson  River,  with  its  horizons  of  hill  and 
mountain,  is  the  most  beautiful  geographic  feature 
of  the  east  of  the  United  States.  For  a  long  dis 
tance  inland  from  the  sea,  the  right  bank  of  this 
great  river  is  hemmed  in  by  a  veritable  wall  of 
rock,  crowned  with  forests  and  overgrown  at  its 
base  with  coarse  brushwood  that  draws  its  nourish 
ment  out  of  the  dust  of  the  ages.  On  the  opposite 
bank  is  a  series  of  gently  sloping  hills,  very  pictu 
resquely  grouped.  Along  these  hills,  for  more  than 
seventy-five  miles,  villages,  small  and  attractive 
cities,  and  villas  and  farms  where  a  great  number 
of  New  York  families  spend  the  summer,  and 
sometimes  the  whole  year,  follow  one  another  in 

almost  unbroken  succession.  Washington  Irving  has 
34 


ESCAPE    INTO    THE    COUNTRY      35 

given  charming  descriptions  of  this  country  in  his 
"  Sketch  Book/'  and  has  largely  furnished  it  with 
its  store  of  traditions,  which  are  kept  piously  alive 
in  the  memory  of  his  compatriots. 

No  sooner  were  we  arrived  at  Ardsley,  than 
Mrs.  McClure  proposed  a  drive,  and  its  destination 
proved  to  be  Irvington.  We  followed  a  wide  and 
well-constructed  road,  which  is  something  rather 
rare  in  America,  and  encountered  many  light  ve 
hicles  filled  with  families  out  on  pleasure  jaunts, 
or  belonging  to  purveyors  of  some  sort,  but  scarcely 
any  automobiles.  The  system  of  roads  in  the  United 
States  is  very  imperfect.  The  people  go  about  by 
rail  or  trolley;  you  cannot  as  in  France  and  other 
European  countries,  gratify  a  fancy,  if  you  happen 
to  have  it,  to  go  from  one  end  of  the  land  to  the 
other  by  automobile,  but  that  fashion  of  travel  is 
restricted  to  the  vicinity  of  the  cities,  and  the  num 
ber  of  touring  cars  is  proportionally  inferior  to 
ours.  You  do  not,  however,  feel  like  complaining 
much  on  this  score,  when  you  are  driving  content 
edly  along  a  beautiful  route  that  the  too  frequent 
passing  of  gasoline  machines  would  transform  into 
a  realm  of  dust  and  pestiferous  odours. 


SLEEPY    HOLLOW    CEMETERY 

WE  turn  aside  to  make  a  little  pilgrimage 
to  Washington  Irving's  home,  which  is 
still  inhabited  by  members  of  his  fam 
ily,  and  where  many  rooms  remain  as  they  were  in 
his  day.  A  French  servant  of  the  household  is  over 
joyed  to  meet  some  of  his  fellow-countrymen  and 
talk  with  them. 

Washington  Irving  rests  in  the  cemetery  of 
Sleepy  Hollow,  which  is  quite  large,  but  of  a  beau 
tiful  simplicity.  There  is  not  a  single  pretentious 
monument  in  it:  fine  trees  and  grass  plots,  granite 
stones,  plain  and  impressive,  some  roses — that  is 
all.  This  is  the  general  character  of  the  cemeteries 
I  saw  in  America,  and  in  a  country  of  so  much 
wealth,  the  fact  is  significant.  It  shows  a  sentiment 
of  respect  toward  the  other  life,  of  equality  in 
death,  a  religious  sentiment  simple  and  profound; 
there  are  no  signs  of  pride  or  vanity,  nor  of  deso 
lation  and  despair.  Death  is  looked  upon  as  it  ought 

to   be,  with  resignation   and   faith.   We   are   often 
36 


SLEEPY    HOLLOW    CEMETERY       37 

shocked,  pained,  even  scandalised,  by  luxury  in 
cemeteries,  a  thing  so  out  of  place  by  the  side  of 
death;  or  we  are  terrified  by  signs  of  a  grief  that 
knows  no  hope.  I  like  the  moral  atmosphere  of 
American  cemeteries,  and  the  spirit  that  breathes 
over  their  graves  uplifts  me.  It  is  not  all  to  know 
how  to  live,  we  must  also  know  how  to  die;  dying 
is  a  part  of  life.  The  appearance  of  these  ceme 
teries  was  to  me  a  declaration  of  principles.  With 
a  heart  full  of  remembrances  of  the  beloved  dead, 
and  with  the  persuasion  that  if  the  dead  were  noth 
ing,  the  living  would  be  a  little  less  than  nothing, 
I  cling  tenaciously  to  the  idea  that  everything 
which  commemorates  those  who  have  returned  to 
God,  should  bear  the  stamp  of  a  lofty  and  inspir 
ing  humanity.  The  way  men  regard  the  dead  and 
preserve  their  memory,  forms  an  important  chapter 
in  the  art  of  living,  upon  which  the  other  chapters 
much  depend.  On  the  first  evening  of  my  visit  in  this 
country  which  I  already  loved,  to  which  I  had  come 
less  intent  upon  viewing  its  greatness,  its  power 
and  its  exterior  life,  than  its  character,  its  moral 
force  and  its  inner  life,  I  was  happy  to  receive, 
above  the  graves  of  Sleepy  Hollow,  these  comfort 
ing  impressions.  How  beautiful,  how  tender,  how 


38     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

full  of  faith,  that  soul  of  a  people  which  began  to 
reveal  itself  to  me  in  this  restful  place !  Across  the 
Hudson  the  sun  was  going  down.  Below  us  the 
river  crept  by  like  a  sheet  of  lava;  on  its  opposite 
bank  lay  the  long  giant  bar  of  rock  that  at  this 
hour  was  blended  into  a  uniform  mass  of  darkness, 
and  behind  the  jagged  and  molten  edges  of  the 
long  cloud  banks  above  it,  the  sun,  flooding  the 
west,  glowed  like  a  conflagration.  I  gazed  with  eyes 
and  soul,  moved  most  by  the  thought  that  for  the 
first  time  I  was  seeing  the  sun  set  over  the  land 
of  Washington. 


XI 

FIRST    SPEECH    IN    ENGLISH 

^O-MORROW  is  Sunday,"  Mr.  McClure 
said  to  me  at  dinner  that  night;  "I 
hope  you  feel  like  preaching  in  our 
little  church." 

"  Oh,  no,"  was  my  answer;  "  I  prefer  to  listen." 

After  church  the  next  day,  came  a  new  question: 
"  Won't  you  conduct  a  little  family  service  for  us 
this  afternoon  ?  " 

This  time  it  was  impossible  to  refuse,  whatever 
my  alarm  at  the  prospect  of  making  my  debut  in 
English,  even  before  an  audience  of  only  five  or 
six  listeners. 

At  the  appointed  hour  I  came  down  to  the  draw 
ing-room,  and  found  myself  in  the  presence  of — 
fifty  people !  "  Your  family  is  very  numerous,"  I 
whispered  in  my  host's  ear. 

There  were  some  well-known  residents  of  the 
neighbourhood,  among  them  the  kind  and  so  truly 
modest  Miss  Gould,  who  has  found  the  way  to 

make  herself  beloved  throughout  the  Republic.  But 
39 


40     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

I  had  other  things  to  think  of  just  then  than  the 
personnel  of  my  audience,  and  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life,  I  think,  I  could  have  wished  it  smaller 
and  less  distinguished. 

There  was  no  alternative,  I  had  to  begin,  and 
while  paying  strict  attention  to  my  speech,  that 
must  have  wavered  like  the  first  steps  of  a  child, 
I  now  and  then  hazarded  a  glance  at  the  face  of 
some  auditor  in  particular.  Oh,  happy  surprise! 
each  one  appeared  to  be  understanding  me.  It 
could  be  seen  that  they  were  following  the  thread 
of  the  discourse,  and  I  experienced  that  something 
which  tells  a  speaker  his  hearers  are  assimilating 
his  thought. 

And  so  the  ice  was  broken,  and  after  the  sermon 
everybody  was  charming  and  reassuring.  For  me 
it  was  an  important  event;  how  many  times  had  I 
not  in  spirit  passed  through  this  first  ordeal!  Now 
it  was  behind  me,  and  I  was  relieved  of  a  great 
weight.  Doubt  as  to  the  value  of  the  equipment 
which  must  now  serve  me  daily,  had  given  place 
to  confidence. 


XII 
LINDENHURST 

LINDENHURST,  the  country-seat  of  John 
Wanamaker,  had  been  chosen  in  advance, 
as  the  corner  of  America  where  I  should 
pass  the  very  brief  period  of  acclimatisation,  and 
in  fulfillment  of  the  exact  instructions  left  at 
New  York  by  my  host,  the  journey  there  was  a 
triumph  of  delicate  attentions.  Mr.  Robert  C.  Og- 
den,  a  prominent  New  Yorker  and  an  associate  of 
Mr.  Wanamaker,  received  us  from  the  hands  of 
Mr.  McClure,  and  conducted  us  to  the  Pennsylvania 
Railroad  ferry.  There  he  confided  us  to  the  care  of 
a  smiling  young  man,  who  had  been  commissioned 
to  conduct  us  to  the  Lindenhurst  station,  at  Jenkin- 
town,  five  miles  from  Philadelphia.  This  very  well- 
informed  emissary  held  himself  ready  to  answer 
all  questions  which  strangers  might  pose  along  the 
way, — though  is  one  a  stranger  in  a  land  where 
such  cordial  reception  everywhere  awaits  him?  And 
people  had  written  me  in  their  letters :  "  You  are 

not   coming   among   strangers;   these   are   brothers 
41 


42     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

whom  you  are  about  to  visit.  You  will  be  received 
as  the  country's  guest,  and  at  the  same  time  as  a 
friend."  From  a  distance  one  is  tempted  to  take 
such  forms  of  speech  for  mere  politeness,  but  had 
I  better  known  the  country  to  which  I  was  going, 
I  might  have  assured  myself  that  in  this  case  they 
were  expressions  of  the  simple  truth. 

At  the  threshold  of  his  home,  Mr.  Wanamaker 
received  us,  and  it  would  be  impossible  to  put  more 
perfect  grace  and  more  unaffected  simplicity  into 
a  welcome.  That  day  we  made  the  acquaintance  of 
part  of  his  family,  and  the  next  day,  when  Mrs. 
Wanamaker  returned  from  the  seaside,  I  saw  them 
all  together  for  the  first  time,  though  I  seemed 
rather  to  be  encountering  them  all  again  after  a 
long  absence.  There  was  no  constraint,  no  ice  to 
be  broken,  scarcely  need  of  making  acquaintance; 
from  the  first  moment  we  found  ourselves  on  a 
common  ground  of  ideas  and  feeling. 

The  next  morning,  according  to  the  daily  custom, 
the  head  of  the  family  read  from  the  Bible  to  the 
assembled  household,  masters  and  servants,  and  in 
his  short  prayer  he  forgot  neither  the  newly  ar 
rived  guests  nor  their  distant  homes.  This  custom 
of  family  worship,  which  is  still  largely  prevalent 


LINDENHURST  48 

in  the  United  States,  I  hold  it  to  be  one  of  the 
most  legitimate  and  salutary  kinds  of  religious  ex 
pression,  if  it  can  be  kept  free  from  routine  and 
made  to  avoid  stereotyped  forms,  so  as  to  be  daily 
the  fresh  expression  of  thoughts  and  feelings  which 
arise  naturally  around  the  family  life;  and  wher 
ever  I  take  part  in  this  worship  I  always  taste  that 
sweetness  which  comes  to  us  from  communion  of 
spirit.  To  pray  with  one  another,  sincerely  and  sim 
ply,  outside  of  all  prescribed  rites,  in  the  pure  re 
lations  of  a  mutual  humanity,  is  the  highest  form 
of  brotherhood. 

Lindenhurst  is  a  large  and  handsome  residence, 
that  has  received  many  additions  to  its  original 
plan.  Everything  is  grouped  around  an  immense 
central  hall  from  which  the  grand  staircase  mounts 
to  a  second  great  hall  on  the  floor  above.  These 
halls  themselves  are  for  habitation,  furnished  for 
comfort,  and  adorned  with  plants,  beautiful  pic 
tures,  statuary  and  objects  of  art,  all  examples  of 
a  perfect  taste.  Half-way  up  the  staircase  stands 
an  organ.  On  the  first  floor  are  the  picture  galleries 
full  of  works  by  the  masters;  one  of  the  largest 
and  finest  of  them  was  built  specially  for  Mun- 
kacsy's  two  great  pictures,  Christ  before  Pilate, 


44     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

and  Christ  on  the  Cross.  One  could  hardly  apply 
to  this  home  the  term  luxurious,  which  rather  im 
plies  great  cost  with  the  object  of  pomp  and  dis 
play,  and  the  absence  of  the  spirit  of  home  as  well 
as  of  true  beauty ;  Lindenhurst  is  a  dwelling  whose 
aspect  and  arrangements  do  honour  to  its  master, 
because  its  master  does  honour  to  the  dwelling.  It 
contains  treasures  of  art;  but  what  above  all  else 
renders  it  dear  to  me  and  highly  to  be  prized,  is 
that  it  shelters  a  man  whose  life  is  entirely  devoted 
to  God,  to  intelligent  and  helpful  work;  a  man 
whose  one  desire  is  to  use  his  means  and  power  for 
the  greatest  possible  good  of  others. 


XIII 

OUT    FOR    A    STROLL 

I  WON'T  have  any  explanations;  I  am  going 
to  see  things  for  myself.  Of  course  it  is 
quite  possible  that  I  shall  miss  wonderful 
sights  without  even  knowing  of  their  existence;  but 
at  least  what  I  do  see  will  not  have  been  chosen 
for  me,  or  arranged  by  some  clever  cicerone  who 
would  have  me  see  things  as  he  does.  It  is  in  this 
way  that  I  have  planned  to  explore  the  vicinity 
of  Lindenhurst  to-day,  and  Philadelphia  and  Amer 
ica  on  the  morrows. 

The  grounds  of  the  mansion  are  very  attractive, 
but  of  limited  extent,  following  the  principle  of 
their  owner  that  no  more  should  be  spent  upon  any 
thing  than  is  justifiable.  The  gardener  who  showed 
me  the  greenhouses  and  the  collection  of  orchids, 
drew  my  attention  to  the  fact  that  this  collection  is 
incomplete.  Here  was  the  principle  again,  and  one 
worth  the  rarest  orchid. 

I  pass  out  of  the  grounds  and  wander  over  a 

beautiful  undulating  country.  Between  the  hills  are 
45 


46     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

deep  ravines  where  capricious  streams  flow,  that 
slumber  to-day  and  to-morrow  wake  up  raging,  to 
have  a  savage  game  at  uprooting  trees  and  sweep 
ing  away  bridges.  Only  three  days  ago  they  were 
disporting  themselves  after  this  fashion,  but  where 
is  the  torrent  now?  It  has  vanished,  like  a 
naughty  boy  after  playing  a  bad  trick;  but  it 
has  scattered  right  and  left  the  unhappy  victims 
of  its  terrible  amusements.  There  is  something 
fantastic  about  the  meteorology  of  this  country; 
'  rapid  leaps  of  temperature,  wind  storms  and  at 
mospheric  eccentricities  generally,  are  the  order  of 
the  day. 

On  both  sides  the  road,  in  whichever  direction 
one  turns,  are  country  homes,  of  stone  or  wood, 
chiefly  of  wood.  They  stand  under  beautiful  syca 
mores  or  other  large-leaved  trees,  maples  predomi 
nating.  These  last  trees,  which  are  found  every 
where,  have  this  in  common  with  our  birch,  that  an 
abundant  sap  circulates  in  them  in  spring-time;  it 
is  drawn  off  in  the  same  manner  as  the  sap  of  the 
birch,  and  made  into  a  delicious  syrup,  of  which 
the  Americans  are  very  fond,  and  which  they  eat 
for  breakfast  with  pancakes. 

The  grounds  of  these  country  houses  are  very 


OUT    FOR    A    STROLL  47 

seldom  enclosed,  an  arrangement  I  had  already 
noticed  in  New  York  State.  Their  owners  do  not 
rigorously  mark  the  limits  of  their  land  with  walls, 
fences  or  hedges,  as  is  the  custom  in  Europe, 
where  the  altitude  of  the  barrier  often  cuts  off  all 
the  view;  and  nowhere  in  America  did  I  see  any 
of  those  garden  walls  whose  height,  an  affront  in 
itself,  is  made  more  offensive  by  bits  of  broken 
glass  and  necks  of  bottles  bristling  on  their  tops. 
Such  an  armament  is  an  anti-social  demonstration, 
and  must,  I  think,  arouse  unkind  feeling  against 
the  proprietor,  if  not  the  wish  that  he  may  be 
robbed. 

Country  houses,  large  and  small,  often  follow 
one  another  for  miles  along  these  roads,  without 
being  separated  by  anything  more  than  a  little 
hedge  or  a  grass-bordered  path.  There  is  grass 
everywhere,  a  fine  and  close  turf  on  which  the  peo 
ple  have  their  outdoor  games  and  sports.  The  man 
who  walks  for  the  love  of  it,  is  rarely  encountered 
in  America;  the  charm  of  his  existence  is  seem 
ingly  unknown,  and  the  cane,  inseparable  com 
panion  of  a  stroll,  is  scarcely  to  be  seen;  but  to 
make  up  for  this,  you  find  everywhere,  in  the  out 
skirts  of  cities,  on  the  grounds  of  residences,  and 


48     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

in  the  parks,  men,  women  and  children  playing 
various  games,  that  generally  demand  much  skill, 
and  include  much  movement,  many  outcries,  and 
often  a  veritable  intoxication  of  the  joy  of  combat. 
From  his  first  day  there,  the  visitor  in  America 
observes  that  the  people  turn  to  movement  and 
freedom  for  their  pleasures.  My  friend  Joseph 
Elkinton,  a  resident  of  this  hilly  country  about 
Philadelphia,  whom  I  saw  enjoying  the  autumn 
sports  at  his  home,  wrote  me  after  Christmas: 
"  You  should  come  back  to  see  us  now.  Every 
thing  is  covered  with  snow,  and  all  the  water  is 
frozen  over.  In  our  leisure  time  we  slide  down 
hill  or  skate;  you  would  think  us  a  lot  of  Es 
quimaux." 

A  thing  which  greatly  puzzled  me  was  to  see  so 
few  gardens,  properly  speaking.  There  are  flowers 
around  the  dwellings,  roses  mingle  their  colors  with 
the  green  of  vines,  but  the  garden  is  generally  ab 
sent;  that  vegetable  garden  so  dear  to  the  French 
man,  that  little  corner  of  his  yard  where  the  sub 
urbanite  mingles  with  the  beautiful  and  graceful 
rose  the  useful  parsley  and  onion,  you  may  search 
for  in  vain  in  America,  save  as  an  exception.  But 
they  are  very  pretty,  these  suburban  American 


OUT    FOR    A    STROLL  49 

homes,  with  their  verandas  and  their  shining  win 
dows  framed  in  ivy  or  wild  vines;  and  from  their 
physiognomy,  which  has  much  to  say  to  the  passer 
by,  I,  passing  and  musing,  conclude  that  they  must 
be  the  homes  of  very  worthy  people. 


XIV 

A   SIESTA   AND    ITS    SEQUEL 

IN  order  to  ramble  about  without  really  getting 
lost — a  thing  that  is  always  disagreeable — 
after  you  have  reached  a  certain  distance 
from  the  point  to  which  you  wish  to  return,  it  is 
necessary  to  follow  the  rule  of  turning  the  cor 
ners  uniformly  either  all  to  the  right  or  all  to  the 
left.  On  this  occasion  my  old  system  brought  me 
back,  at  the  end  of  some  hours,,  to  the  grounds  of 
Lindenhurst.  One  isn't  a  rustic  and  a  gardener  for 
nothing,  and  in  this  new  land  every  plant  inter 
ested  me,  even  the  roadside  weeds;  I  enjoyed 
brushing  against  the  same  clover  and  plantain 
along  the  paths  of  the  New  World  as  border  the 
European  ways,  they  smiled  up  at  me  like  old 
acquaintances;  and  in  the  garden  I  had  now  en 
tered  the  cultivated  plants  attracted  me  no  less. 
But  I  had  reached  a  sort  of  rotunda  where  garden 
chairs  invited  me  to  rest.  Why  not  do  it?  The  air 
was  mild  and  the  tramp  had  been  long;  and  I  was 

soon  asleep,  my  last  impressions  being  of  a  gentle 
50 


A    SIESTA    AND    ITS    SEQUEL        51 

breeze  that  rocked  the  leafy  cradles  of  great  clus 
ters  of  purple  grapes,  and  swung  the  golden  pears 
on  the  drooping  branches. 

When  I  awoke,  a  little  garden  table  stood  be 
fore  me,  all  spread,  with  leafy  plates  heaped  with 
fruit.  The  hands  of  children  were  easily  detected 
in  its  arrangement,  but  where  were  the  good  fairies 
whose  little  fingers  had  bestowed  their  gifts  so 
discreetly ! 

My  amazement  had  witnesses,  and  witnesses  in 
capable  of  concealing  their  emotions;  smothered 
laughter  escaped  from  behind  a  clump  of  bushes, 
and  soon  I  saw  coming  toward  me  a  little  dark- 
haired  girl  of  seven  or  eight,  who  might  have  been 
the  gardener's  daughter,  and  a  fair  child  of  the 
same  age,  with  great  blue  eyes,  and  golden  curls 
falling  about  her  shoulders,  who  plainly  belonged 
to  the  great  house. 

We  were  not  long  in  making  friends.  I  ate  the 
delicious  pears  and  the  grapes  with  the  flavour  of 
muscatel,  meanwhile  delighting  myself  in  the  Eng 
lish  of  these  fresh  voices.  I  told  a  story  and  they 
begged  for  "  one  more  "  until  it  grew  into  a  series. 

"  Will  you  come  to  take  tea  in  my  house  ?  "  the 
child  with  the  blue  eyes  asked  at  last 


52     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

"  With  great  pleasure ;  and  at  what  hour  ?  " 

Five  o'clock  was  set. 

At  the  appointed  time,  Mary  came  to  take  me 
by  the  hand  and  lead  me  to  her  house.  For  she  had 
a  house,  out  under  the  trees;  a  doll's  house,  but 
large  enough  for  a  visitor  to  enter.  With  the  aid 
of  inclination  and  the  exercise  of  some  strategy,  I 
succeeded  in  getting  through  the  door,  and  stow 
ing  away  my  legs  somehow  under  the  pretty  little 
green  table.  We  launched  into  conversation,  and  the 
charm  of  childhood  had  me  captive. 

Through  the  window  the  forest  could  be  seen, 
with  squirrels  darting  fearlessly  about,  and  the 
sun's  rays,  sifting  through  the  branches,  danced 
over  the  white  cloth  with  the  shadows  of  the  leaves. 
In  the  perfectly  appointed  little  room  there  was  a 
real  buffet  and  a  real  table-service,  and  a  num 
ber  of  dolls,  of  irreproachable  manners,  kept  us 
company. 

We  chatted  like  two  grown  people  or  two  chil 
dren,  as  you  will;  for  no  one  else  in  the  world  has 
the  gravity  of  a  child;  the  rest  of  us  are  always 
disquieted  by  something  or  other  in  the  back 
ground.  The  child  lives  his  life  openly,  and  takes 
it  with  absolute  seriousness,  and  well  is  it  for 


A    SIESTA    AND    ITS    SEQUEL        53 

grown-ups  if  they  remain  children  or  become  chil 
dren  again.  One  of  the  joys  of  my  tour  was  this 
five-o'clock-tea  at  Mary't  house.  Could  I,  before 
leaving  her,  refuse  to  tell  another  story?  Certainly 
not;  so  I  told  her  one  story  more,  and  it  was  a 
moment  of  exquisite  peace  and  contentment.  Surely 
the  child's  pleasure  in  hearing  the  tale  could  not 
have  been  greater  than  mine  in  watching  her  as 
she  listened  with  her  whole  soul,  listened  as  the 
wood  listens  to  the  brook  and  the  flower  to  the  bee. 


XV 

A    VISIT    AT    THE    WHITE    HOUSE 

AS  far  back  as  the  end  of  July,  the  Presi 
dent  had  invited  me  to  the  White  House 
for  September  26th,  "  to  dine  and  spend 
the  night."  I  had  often  anticipated  this  meeting; 
now  I  was  on  the  eve  of  it.  I  was  really  going  to  see 
the  man  whose  personality  had  won  him  such  warm 
sympathy  and  sincere  admiration  throughout  the 
entire  world;  and  the  proximity  of  the  interview 
brought  me  both  joy  and  trepidation.  What  im 
pression  should  I  take  away  from  this  personal 
encounter  ?  and  he — what  would  he  experience  upon 
seeing  face  to  face  the  man  whom  he  had  been 
pleased  to  honour  from  afar  as  a  sower  of  seed  and 
disseminator  of  ideas? 

I  re-read  certain  passages  of  his  books,  refreshed 
my  remembrance  of  his  deeds,  and  recalled  the 
contents  of  his  kind  letters — every  one  of  which 
had  been  an  event  for  me — that  I  might  have  in 
my  mind  a  definite  picture  of  the  man  I  was  now 

to  meet  in  his  home. 

54 


AT   THE   WHITE   HOUSE  55 

So  disposed,  I  arrived  at  the  White  House, 
toward  the  end  of  the  afternoon,  on  that  day  in 
late  September.  The  presidential  residence  is  a 
building  of  the  Greek  order,  on  simple  lines,  en 
tirely  white,  and  situated  in  the  midst  of  immense 
lawns  and  gardens.  Beyond  is  the  Washington 
Monument,  in  the  form  of  a  colossal  obelisk,  its 
smooth  shaft  springing  upward  like  the  symbol  of 
a  great  idea.  The  White  House  is  entered  like  a 
private  dwelling;  there  are  no  sentries;  the  main 
effect  is  that  of  simplicity,  and  to  me  this  entire 
absence  of  pomp  was  more  impressive  than  all  the 
majestic  exhibitions  of  authority  I  have  seen  about 
the  residences  of  sovereigns.  It  is,  however,  the 
testimony  of  many  of  its  former  occupants  that 
as  a  home,  and  for  comfort,  the  White  House  leaves 
much  to  be  desired.  But  it  has  become  a  historic 
building,  and  no  splendid  residence,  no  palace, 
however  rich  and  beautiful,  could  replace  it. 

A  servant  conducted  me  to  my  room,  and  toward 
eight  o'clock  I  was  informed  that  the  President  had 
asked  for  me. 

I  found  him  with  Mrs.  Roosevelt  in  one  of  the 
drawing-rooms  of  the  first  floor,  which  contains  the 
portraits  of  former  presidents.  He  came  to  meet 


56     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

me  with  outstretched  hands,  and  a  moment  after 
ward  we  were  at  table,  four  in  all,  including  the 
President,  Mrs.  Roosevelt,  and  Mrs.  Roosevelt- 
West  of  New  York.  It  was  to  be  a  little  friendly 
dinner. 

"  Where  are  the  boys?  "  asked  the  President. 

"  They  are  on  their  way  to  bed,"  some  one 
answered. 

"  Never  mind,  let  them  come  and  say  '  How  do 
you  do  ?  '  to  Mr.  Wagner." 

And  I  see  two  young  boys  coming  in,  from  nine 
to  eleven  years  old,  evidently  tired  out  after  a 
long  run,  their  eyes  foretelling  sleep. 

"  I've  a  very  important  question  to  ask  you,"  I 
said  to  one  of  them.  "  Do  you  sleep  with  your 
hands  open  or  shut?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  replied,  "  as  I'm  asleep." 

The  President  laughed  heartily  at  this  answer, 
which  was  of  course  the  only  good  one  to  make, 
and  the  little  fellows  hurried  off  to  bed. 

"  We  would  rather  have  received  you  at  Oyster 
Bay,"  said  the  President.  "  That  is  our  home, 
where  even  now  we  pass  several  months  every  year. 
You  would  have  seen  three  families  of  our  rela 
tives,  too,  who  live  near  us,  and  all  the  children 


AT   THE   WHITE   HOUSE          57 

together,  theirs  and  ours,  a  troop  of  seventeen."  I 
expressed  my  regret  at  the  loss  of  so  charming  an 
opportunity,  and  the  hope  that  some  good  day  it 
might  offer  itself. 

With  my  first  salutation  I  had  conveyed  to  the 
President  of  the  United  States  the  personal  greet 
ings  with  which  our  own  president,  M.  Emile  Lou- 
bet,  had  graciously  charged  me  when  I  went  to  pay 
him  my  respects  before  leaving  France.  Now  the 
conversation  turned  upon  various  subjects  of  in 
terest  to  us — the  education  of  children  and  the 
cultivation  of  the  public  spirit;  social  questions; 
international  relations  and  international  goodwill; 
matters  of  religion.  We  spoke  French,  German,  and 
English  in  turn,  and  once,  after  comparing  our 
repertoires  of  German  poetry,  we  recited  passages 
from  different  Lieder,  especially  from  "  Valer,  ich 
rufe  dich." 

In  the  matter  of  family  sentiment  I  found  the 
President  full  of  tenderness  and  filial  respect. 
When  he  spoke  of  the  home,  it  was  with  emotion, 
almost  with  tears  in  his  eyes.  He  called  it  the  key 
stone  of  humanity.  Here  I  immediately  recognised 
the  man  of  heart,  of  a  fundamental  human  fibre 
wonderfully  sensitive  and  strong.  Speaking  of  his 


58     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

religious  sentiments,  he  said:  "I  am  very  much 
attached  to  my  old  Dutch  Reformed  Church,  and 
at  the  same  time  I  belong  to  the  Church  Universal." 
Where  public  spirit  is  concerned,  nothing  that 
might  contribute  to  the  strengthening  of  mutual 
goodwill  and  the  cohesion  of  the  country's  citizens, 
finds  him  indifferent.  Endowed  with  a  mind  of  rare 
penetration,  to  which  every  sort  of  mental  finesse 
is  familiar,  his  chief  interest  is  nevertheless  in 
practical  ideas,  ideas  that  are  to  the  mental  and 
spiritual  life  of  the  people  at  large  what  bread  is 
to  the  life  of  the  body.  He  is  fond  of  repeating 
the  thought  that  what  is  necessary  to  the  health 
and  strength  of  a  people,  is  much  less  the  existence 
among  them  of  a  few  isolated  characters  of  ex 
traordinary  greatness,  than  a  good  general  mean 
of  public  spirit.  Backbone  and  energy,  a  sense  of 
social  responsibility,  a  determination  from  the  be 
ginning  to  march  straight  ahead  without  permit 
ting  one's  self  to  be  turned  to  right  or  left — these 
things  are  what  he  appreciates  most  highly  in  a 
man;  and  he  would  have  him  add  to  them  that 
broad-minded  attitude  toward  others  which  betrays 
itself  in  forbearing  to  exercise  all  one's  own  rights, 
out  of  consideration  for  one's  neighbour. 


AT   THE   WHITE    HOUSE  59 

No  one  could  express  himself  in  more  sympa 
thetic  fashion  with  regard  to  a  people  than  did 
the  President,  in  several  instances,,  regarding  ours. 
He  believes  that  with  a  little  more  clear-sightedness 
the  civilised  nations  of  the  present  time  would  have 
a  good  chance  of  avoiding  war,  and  of  regulating 
their  affairs  in  accordance  with  the  principle  that 
the  fundamental  interests  of  the  nations  are  iden 
tical;  and  if  four  or  five  of  the  most  powerful 
among  them  should  arrive  at  the  establishment  of 
that  amicable  understanding  which  seems  already  on 
the  way,  he  thinks  they  might  even  prevent  others 
from  disturbing  the  universal  peace. 

I  shall  always  remember  his  saying:  "Your 
books  make  me  feel  more  clearly  than  ever,  that 
fundamentally  there  are  just  the  same  needs  for 
us  on  this  side  of  the  water  as  for  you  on  the 
other.  We  are  all  alike  at  bottom,  in  needing  to 
cherish  the  same  virtues  and  war  on  the  same  evils. 
The  brotherhood  of  nations  is  no  empty  phrase." 

I  would  that  I  might  fix  here  the  physiognomy 
of  the  President,  as  I  saw  it;  his  extraordinarily 
mobile  face  is  rebellious  toward  the  camera  or  the 
brush.  His  portraits  all  play  him  false,  showing 
his  face  at  rest.  No  one  who  hasn't  seen  him  can 


60     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

picture  him  as  he  is,  for  everything  that  he  says 
is  accompanied  by  its  corresponding  facial  expres 
sion.  There  is  one  word  in  particular  that  he  often 
uses,  and  always  with  its  typical  play  of  features 
— the  word  exactly.  He  is  alive,  and  puts  himself 
simply  and  wholly  into  every  manifestation  of 
himself. 

His  greeting  is  genial  and  direct;  not  a  sign, 
even  the  slightest,  of  the  grand  personage.  And 
this  is  not  a  mere  democratic  simplicity;  it  is  a 
broad  and  hospitable  human  simplicity.  You  feel 
that  he  is  a  man  who  would  be  at  home  with  all 
classes,  the  peer  of  the  highest,  the  brother  of  the 
humblest.  It  brought  joy  to  my  heart  to  find  him 
like  this,  for  to  be  natural,  without  pretension,  free 
from  the  petty  care  that  some  men  take  to  bring 
their  person  into  relief,  is  the  sign  of  true  greatness. 

The  President  of  the  United  States  is,  quite 
simply,  a  man,  one  of  the  members  of  the  race 
that  do  most  credit  to  our  old  human  family.  He 
gives  the  impression  of  concentrated  force,  of  a 
spring  at  tension.  You  feel  that  he  is  ready  at  any 
moment  for  a  supreme  effort,  to  expend  himself 
in  any  cause  that  demands  it.  Above  his  work-table 
he  is  pictured  on  a  horse  that  is  leaping  an  obstacle. 


AT   THE  WHITE  HOUSE  61 

It  is  the  image  of  his  fine  temperament — generous, 
brave,  daring,  devoted  even  to  the  point  of  sacri 
fice.  Here  is  a  man  who  will  never  retreat  before 
anything,  unless  it  be  evil-doing;  for  he  is  as 
scrupulous  as  he  is  determined  and  brave,  a  leader 
who  obeys  the  inner  law.  This  chief  of  a  repub 
lican  state,  armed  by  its  constitution  with  more 
authority  than  most  sovereigns  enjoy,  has  the  sen 
sitive  conscience  of  a  child.  He  is — to  sum  it  up 
justly — an  honest  man.  He  will  never  be  made  to 
follow  crooked  paths;  whatever  end  he  chooses  to 
pursue,  you  may  be  sure  that  he  will  move  straight 
toward  it. 

Moreover,  he  is  clear-sighted,  without  illusions; 
he  knows  life  and  men  with  their  underhanded 
ways.  And  yet,  seeing  things  as  they  are,  he  be 
lieves  in  the  ultimate  victory  of  the  good;  but  he 
knows  that  the  price  of  this  victory  is  a  daily 
struggle  against  the  elements  of  destruction.  He 
has  done  much,  and  thought  much.  His  body,  sup 
ple  and  warrior-like,  equal  to  the  greatest  fatigue, 
inured  to  hard  privation,  is  at  his  service,  like  a 
good  steed  perfectly  responsive  to  its  master.  Even 
when  he  is  quietly  seated  conversing  with  his 
friends,  he  has  not  the  air  of  a  man  taking  his 


62     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

leisure;  his  repose  is  a  preliminary  to  action.  He 
knows  that  combat  is  the  law  of  life,  but  he  will 
never  fight  any  other  than  a  good  fight;  and  that 
is  why  this  warrior  is  a  peacemaker.  Those  who 
accuse  him  of  imperialism  do  not  know  him;  his 
patriotism  has  nothing  aggressive  about  it,  it  men 
aces  no  one.  If  he  would  have  America  strong,  it 
is  that  she  may  not  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  good 
pleasure  of  others,  and  the  people  are  with  him 
in  this  matter;  pacific  but  invincible — such  is  their 
character.  In  one  of  his  addresses  the  President 
has  said:  "We  hold  that  the  prosperity  of  each 
nation  is  an  aid  not  a  hindrance  to  the  prosperity 
of  other  nations." 

To  me  it  seems  an  extraordinary  privilege  to 
have  been  able  to  pass  long,  restful  hours  under 
his  roof,  in  open-hearted  converse  with  a  man  of 
his  worth;  and  for  those  everywhere  who  interest 
themselves  in  the  destinies  of  the  human  family  to 
find  at  the  centre  of  the  life  of  a  great  people,  a 
people  whose  influence  makes  itself  felt  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  a  character  of  this  metal,  a  heart  of 
such  kindness,  an  intelligence  so  broad  and  so  rare, 

may  well  strengthen  a  world-wide  confidence. 
ft  *  «  *  * 


AT   THE   WHITE   HOUSE  63 

After  dinner,  on  this  night  of  mild  airs  and  clear 
moonlight  that  fell  caressingly  on  the  stretches  of 
lawn  and  trees,  and  threw  into  relief  the  white 
shaft  of  the  Monument,  the  talk  was  prolonged 
on  a  balcony  overlooking  the  gardens.  The  Presi 
dent  introduced  a  caller  who  had  just  arrived,  say 
ing,  "  Here  is  one  of  my  fellow-labourers,  who  has 
come  to  confer  with  me  about  affairs  of  the  elec 
tion.  .  .  .  We  have  some  fighting  to  do."  He  had 
already  said,  in  allusion  to  the  campaign,  which 
was  then  at  its  height:  "  If  I  am  elected,  I  shall 
remain  with  satisfaction;  if  I  am  not,  I  shall  quit 
my  post  with  the  conviction  of  having  done  my 
duty."  After  a  few  moments  the  President  and  the 
newcomer  withdrew. 

In  the  family  drawing-room,  where  Mrs.  Roose 
velt  had  now  begged  us  to  go,  the  first  word  of 
the  ladies  was,  "Let  us  speak  French!  We  love 
your  language !  "  And  indeed  they  spoke  it  with 
perfect  ease.  The  conversation  turned  to  France, 
to  many  sides  of  our  national  life  little  known  and 
very  attractive — our  family  life  and  other  good 
things  of  which  foreigners  are  quite  ignorant.  Per 
ceiving  that  my  questioners  were  interested  and 
pleased  with  what  I  could  tell  them,  I  said:  "  But 


64     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

I  am  quite  ready  to  give  you  a  real  lecture  on  these 
subjects,  just  you  two  ladies  alone,  at  the  first 
favourable  opportunity."  "  Oh,  no,"  replied  the 
President's  wife,  "  for  such  a  lecture  as  that  we 
should  invite  a  lot  of  people — all  our  Washington 
friends  who  could  enjoy  a  lecture  in  French.  And 
what  would  be  your  title?  "  "  Simply  this:  '  Un 
known  France.'  ' 

It  was  agreed  that  I  should  give  this  lecture, 
upon  my  second  visit  to  Washington,  at  the  end 
of  my  tour,  in  November.  Then  the  conversation 
took  an  intimate  turn.  I  was  asked  about  the  mem 
bers  of  my  family  and  the  ages  of  the  children. 
When  one  is  far  from  his  dear  ones,  he  experiences 
a  great  pleasure  in  talking  about  them.  Then 
Oyster  Bay  was  spoken  of  and  the  President's  chil 
dren,  and  I  saw  a  number  of  artistic  photographs 
from  which  it  was  easy  to  get  an  idea  of  the  life 
of  charming  simplicity  lived  in  this  home. 

At  breakfast  next  morning,  the  President  said: 
"  I  am  in  the  secret  of  what  you  plotted  with  the 
ladies  last  evening — a  lecture  at  the  White  House; 
but  aren't  we  to  have  a  public  lecture  in  Wash 
ington  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "it  is  this  moment  being  ar- 


AT   THE   WHITE   HOUSE  65 

ranged.  The  Young  Men's  Christian  Association 
has  the  matter  in  hand." 

"  The  gentlemen  will  do  well  to  choose  a  lecture- 
hall  that  holds  a  large  audience/'  said  the  Presi 
dent,  "  and  I  will  go  myself,  to  present  you  to 
the  public." 

After  breakfast  we  took  a  walk  in  the  gardens, 
where  I  saw  the  rose-bushes  to  which  Mrs.  Roose 
velt  herself  gives  some  care,  and  our  conversa 
tion  was  continued.  Here  I  encountered  again  the 
younger  sons  of  the  President,  with  whom  I  had 
had  a  word  already  that  morning,  in  the  hall,  where 
I  found  them  carving  heads  out  of  chestnuts. 
One  of  them  had  said,  "  It  is  you,  Mr.  Wagner, 
who  wrote  some  droll  stories  to  amuse  children.  We 
don't  understand  French,  but  mamma  has  trans 
lated  them  for  us."  Now,  bareheaded,  in  simple 
blue  cotton  blouses  and  with  books  under  their 
arms,  they  were  on  their  way  to  the  public  school. 

Toward  nine  o'clock,  I  left  the  White  House, 
setting  out  with  my  memory  full  of  the  day  there 
and  going  over  and  over  its  details.  Dr.  Radcliffe, 
pastor  of  the  church  that  President  Lincoln  used 
to  attend,  was  to  take  me  for  a  drive  and  some 
sight-seeing  about  Washington.  When  he  showed 


66     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

me  the  interior  of  his  church,  I  noticed  that  its 
furnishings  had  just  been  renewed.  The  seats  were 
almost  aggressively  fresh,  save  one  old  one  remain 
ing  among  them,  that  seemed,  in  its  more  sombre 
colour,  to  stand  out  from  the  rest;  it  was  Lincoln's 
seat. 

A  little  while  afterward,  visiting  the  magnifi 
cent  Congressional  Library,  we  found  ourselves  in 
the  great  rotunda  whence  long  galleries  filled  with 
books  radiate  in  every  direction,  and  we  stopped 
to  examine  the  ingenious  mechanism  by  means  of 
which  a  borrower  receives  his  book  a  few  minutes 
after  asking  for  it.  A  religious  silence  reigned  in 
these  studious  spaces  filled  with  readers,  some  of 
whom,  to  cut  themselves  off  more  completely,  were 
holding  their  heads  between  their  hands,  and  stop 
ping  their  ears  with  their  thumbs.  All  at  once  I 
espied,  on  an  upper  balcony,  a  party  of  French 
savants  on  their  way  from  St.  Louis,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  group  I  distinguished  the  black  beard 
of  my  friend  Jean  Reville.  The  pleasure  of  see 
ing  here  in  such  unexpected  fashion,  this  brilliant 
cluster  of  learned  compatriots,  drew  from  me  a 
spontaneous  cry  of  surprise  and  satisfaction,  which 
noisy  demonstration  of  patriotic  joy  created  some 


AT   THE   WHITE   HOUSE  67 

little  scandal  among  the  readers,  absorbed  in  mute 
attention  to  their  books.  I  offered  the  amende  hon 
orable  to  the  librarian,  who  had  witnessed  the  vio 
lation  of  scholastic  sanctity,  and  the  indulgent 
smiles  with  which  it  was  received,  showed  that  my 
transgression  had  been  forgiven. 

***** 

My  impression  of  Mr.  Roosevelt  was  the  same 
first  and  last,  whether  I  looked  on  him  with  my 
own  eyes,  or  felt  his  influence  abroad  in  his  country. 

The  people  love  their  President.  There  is  not 
a  royal  house,  even  among  the  oldest  and  those 
most  worthy  of  the  affection  of  their  subjects, 
which  receives  so  deep  and  general  sympathy  as 
do  the  young  President  of  the  United  States  and 
his  family.  He  is  respected  by  all  ages  and  all 
classes;  you  might  think  that  he  was  the  chief 
friend  of  every  household.  His  word  has  an  un 
precedented  authority  throughout  the  country,  nor 
is  this  the  effect  of  a  showy  and  superficial  popu 
larity,  but  of  a  calm  and  legitimate  ascendency.  In 
the  last  presidential  campaign  every  effort  made 
against  him  turned  to  the  hurt  of  his  enemies,  and 
since  his  triumphant  election,  the  justice  of  his 
judgment  and  his  freedom  from  all  political  ran- 


68     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

cour  have  won  even  his  opponents.  Everybody 
knows  that  he  stands  for  the  best  of  America,  that 
he  has  something  better  than  a  political  policy,  that 
he  has  an  ideal,  and  that  this  ideal  conforms  to 
the  noblest  traditions  of  the  Republic  as  well  as  to 
its  most  weighty  future  interests.  The  country's 
destinies  are  in  good  hands. 


XVI 

A    DRIVE    AT    CORNWALL-ON-THE- 
HUDSON 

ACornwall-on-the-Hudson  lives  Dr.  Lyman 
Abbott,  editor  of  the  Outlook,  whose  face 
is  one  of  the  most  familiar  in  America. 
Not  that  it  is  a  typical  American  face,  fresh  in 
colour  and  clean  shaven ;  picture  to  yourself,  rather, 
the  head  of  an  ascetic,  a  luminous  brow  heightened 
by  the  baldness  above  it,  the  face,  mild  and  pensive, 
brought  into  relief  by  a  crown  of  white  hair  and 
a  long  beard — a  face  it  would  be  easy  to  imagine 
in  the  cell  of  an  anchorite.  Dr.  Abbott  is  a  great 
worker,  who  has  written  many  books,  who  keeps 
abreast  of  the  time  in  philosophy  and  criticism, 
and  who  knows  Europe  well  from  personal  ac 
quaintance.  But  his  peculiar  characteristic,  in  his 
manner,  his  speech,  and  the  form  of  his  thought, 
is  a  benevolent  simplicity.  The'  calm  and  geniality 
of  the  sage  are  reflected  in  his  face. 

In  August  he  had  written  that  he  hoped  to  show 

me  a  bit  of  American  rural  life  and  simplicity,  and 
69 


70     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

now,  the  twenty-ninth  of  September,  we  were  set 
ting  out  on  one  of  the  great  Hudson  River  boats. 
We  were  scarcely  out  of  New  York  waters,  when  the 
rain  came  to  join  the  party;  the  Hudson  shrouded 
itself  in  fog,  and  we  sailed  a  gray  river  between 
invisible  banks.  Then  night  came  down  over  it  all, 
and  it  was  in  complete  darkness  that  a  carriage 
conducted  us  to  "  The  Knoll,"  the  family  residence 
of  the  Abbotts,  where  from  the  obscurity  without 
we  emerged  into  the  white  light  of  a  pretty  house, 
to  be  welcomed  by  Mrs.  Abbott's  smiling  face,  the 
exact  counterpart  of  her  husband's,  with  its  fine- 
cut  features  and  slight  pallor. 

After  a  long  evening  passed  in  the  interchange 
of  ideas,  in  a  home  that  makes  a  veritable  intel 
lectual  centre  through  the  members  of  the  household 
and  their  friends,  all  devoted  to  intellectual  pur 
suits,  connoisseurs  in  music  and  art,  and  interested 
in  everything  that  makes  for  good  in  the  world 
of  thought  and  action,  we  went  to  seek  sleep  in 
pretty  chambers,  roomy  and  airy,  whose  only  adorn 
ment  was  some  engravings  of  a  sort  good  to  look 
at  on  going  to  sleep  or  on  waking,  pictures  full  of 
meaning,  of  lofty  human  sentiment,  and  of  strength 
which  they  do  not  fail  to  communicate.  Often,  in 


CORNWALL-ON-THE-HUDSON        71 

the  course  of  my  life,  I  have  been  impressed  by 
the  fact  that  houses  have  souls;  the  soul  of  this 
house  welcoming  us  under  its  roof,  was  one  of 
beneficence. 

The  weather's  attack  of  ill-humour  passed  away 
during  the  night,  and  the  hills  emerged  fresh  and 
sparkling  out  of  the  morning  vapours.  The  sun 
quickly  dried  the  roads,  and  soon,  in  an  open  car 
riage,  with  no  dust  or  heat  to  mar  our  pleasure, 
we  were  following  an  ideal  course  over  hill  and 
dale.  Dr.  Abbott  drove,  and  very  skilfully.  To  his 
beautiful  black  Arab,  clean  of  limb  and  light  of 
foot,  he  had  harnessed  a  mate,  to  ease  the  journey; 
but  he  called  our  attention  to  the  fact  that  this 
additional  horse,  driven  daily  by  all  sorts  of  peo 
ple,  was  a  nondescript  livery  horse,  whereas  his 
own  little  black  steed  had  individuality. 

We  had  not  gone  far,  when  we  came  upon  a 
great  estate,  the  property  of  friends  of  the  family, 
that  lies  between  two  long  ridges  of  land,  its 
buildings  and  its  cultivated  ground  so  grouped  to 
gether  that  we  could  easily  examine  both  the  prod 
uce  and  the  stock.  Entering  the  stables,  we  noticed 
on  the  upper  beams,  above  the  heads  of  the  work 
horses  and  the  rows  of  harness,  inscriptions  of  terse 


72     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

precepts  relating  to  good  management  and  good 
behaviour.  In  the  dairy,  fresh  and  sweet,  the  sec 
tion  where  most  of  the  milk  is  kept  has  no  floor, 
but  is  paved  with  little  polished  pebbles.  Over  these 
flows  pure  cold  water,  in  which  the  cans  of  milk 
and  cream  stand. 

In  general,  milk  is  very  good  in  America,  and 
a  great  quantity  of  it  is  consumed,  many  people 
using  it  as  a  table  drink.  You  even  find  buttermilk 
for  sale  in  restaurants  and  at  railway  buffets,  and 
its  slight  acidity  is  very  agreeable  to  the  taste  and 
refreshing  in  hot  weather.  This  also  is  used  as  a 
table  drink,  and  both  kinds  of  milk  are  always 
served  fresh,  every  household,  even  the  humblest, 
having  its  provision  of  ice. 

After  visiting  the  cow-barns  and  pig-pens,  we 
came  to  the  garden,  but  alas !  though  it  was  only 
the  end  of  September,  a  night  of  sharp  frost  had 
cut  down  all  the  delicate  plants.  It  was  painful 
to  see. 

Coming  out  of  the  garden,  between  the  soft  lines 
of  the  wooded  hills  where  Autumn  was  putting  on 
her  purple  and  gold  in  an  enchanted  atmosphere 
full  of  the  colour  of  flaming  leaves,  we  felt  a  great 
peace  steal  over  us.  What  a  contrast  to  the  noise 


CORNWALL-ON-THE-HUDSON        73 

and  dust  of  the  city,  amid  which  we  were  moving 
at  this  same  hour  the  day  before !  We  made  a  brief 
visit  to  the  dwelling,  which  we  found  to  be  most 
comfortable,  with  great  wainscoted  rooms  full  of 
books,  and  we  came  out  between  rows  of  pumpkins 
that  stood  a  sort  of  rustic  guard  about  the  en 
trance,  and  entered  our  carriage  by  the  aid  of  a 
large  stone  serving  as  an  intermediate  step  between 
the  ground  and  the  higher  carriage  step.  This  lit 
tle  arrangement,  which  saves  the  traveller  from  a 
too  long  and  painful  stretch  of  limb,  is  found  every 
where,  and  is  one  of  the  thousand  and  one  details 
indicative  of  practical  savoir-faire. 

A  half-hour  later  we  were  at  Mountainville,  and 
in  the  apple-orchards  of  farmer  Shaw.  This  good 
man  received  us  at  his  threshold,  and  at  once  con 
ducted  us  to  an  immense  orchard  on  a  side  hill. 
Along  the  grassy  slope,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
were  rows  of  standard  trees  weighted  with  superb 
apples,  old  gold  and  rose,  or  straw  colour  flushed 
with  garnet,  all  in  the  utmost  profusion.  The  low 
boughs,  stretching  out  like  arms,  seemed  to  say 
"  Taste  us."  A  good  opportunity  should  never  be 
neglected.  As  I  was  eating  away  with  great  relish, 
Mr.  Shaw  said  smiling,  "  I  see  you  like  apples." 


74     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

"  I'm  very  fond  of  them/'  I  answered,  "  and  yours 
have  an  exquisite  flavour." 

Several  months  afterward,  in  my  own  home,  I 
received  one  day  a  crate  of  apples  from  America. 
Each  apple  being  wrapped  in  paper,  they  remained 
as  fresh  till  Easter  time  as  they  were  on  the  day 
of  their  arrival,  soon  after  Christmas,  and  never 
did  I  taste  them  without  thinking  of  the  slopes  of 
the  autumn  hills,  of  the  great  robin-redbreasts, 
and  of  the  face  of  Dr.  Lyman  Abbott,  whose  black 
horses,  under  the  guidance  of  his  sure  hand,  car 
ried  us  back  through  a  diversity  of  landscape, 
where  now  and  again,  from  the  summit  of  some 
hill,  we  saw  the  broad  silvery  stream  of  the  Hudson 
sparkling. 


XVII 
A    DAY    AT    BETHANY    CHURCH 

BETHANY  CHURCH,  in  Philadelphia,  in 
troduced  me  to  an  expression  of  religious 
life  in  forms  I  had  never  hitherto  encoun 
tered,  though  America  was  later  to  furnish  me  a 
great  many  examples  of  it,  and  I  wish  to  con 
secrate,  by  a  special  recognition,  the  day,  never  to 
be  forgotten  by  me,  that  I  passed  there, — Septem 
ber  25,  1904.  The  day  before,  I  had  said  to  my 
dear  friend  John  Wanamaker,  "  To-morrow  I  want 
to  share  your  whole  Sunday,"  and  at  half -past 
eight,  in  the  radiant  morning  sunshine^  we  were 
rolling  over  the  route  from  Lindenhurst  to  Phila 
delphia.  The  beautiful  morning  light  clothed  every 
thing  with  that  hallowed  splendour  which  really 
comes  out  of  the  faith  in  our  souls,  to  make  Sunday 
seem  more  beautiful  than  the  other  days.  I  rejoiced 
in  this  sweet  Sabbath  light,  happy  that  I  had  re 
ceived  in  my  youth  an  education  which  made  me 

capable  of  discerning  it,  and  happy  that  I  was  in 
75 


76     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

a  land  where  the  meaning  of  these  words  is  under 
stood — the  day  that  the  Lord  hath  made.  Opposite 
me,  Mr.  Wanamaker,  the  burden  of  his  prodigious 
business  laid  aside,  was  reading  over  the  Bible 
passages  which  were  to  be  considered  that  day; 
beside  him  was  a  bunch  of  flowers,  which  he  was 
taking,  as  his  Sunday  custom  is,  to  distribute  to 
the  sick  along  the  way. 

At  nine  o'clock  we  reached  Bethany  church,  a 
great  building  containing  audience  rooms,  an  im 
mense  Sunday-school  room,  and  various  apartments 
for  Bible  classes,  young  people's  associations,  and 
the  "  Brotherhood,"  an  association  of  men  whose 
aim  is  mutual  encouragement  in  righteous  living, 
and  the  better  part  of  whose  inspiration  is  drawn 
from  passages  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments. 
We  were  received  at  the  door  by  members  of  the 
Brotherhood,  who  took  us  first  to  a  small  room 
where  about  fifty  men  were  assembled,  the  leaders 
and  members  of  the  great  fraternal  society.  There 
were  greetings  and  introductions,  then  a  brief  dis 
cussion  upon  subjects  of  practical  religious  life. 
Not  a  superfluous  word  was  spoken,  and  candour 
and  earnestness  characterised  all  the  remarks  and 
showed  in  all  the  faces.  You  felt  that  you  were  in 


A   DAY  AT   BETHANY   CHURCH      77 

the  presence  of  men  of  worth,  whose  chief  aim 
was  the  right  employment  of  life. 

This  meeting  was  preliminary  to  a  large  one  in 
the  great  audience  room  of  the  basement,  with  its 
capacity  of  eight  or  nine  hundred  people,  which 
was  gradually  being  filled.  When  we  went  down 
we  were  greeted  by  a  stirring  hymn  sung  by  men's 
voices  in  fine  accord.  I  was  enveloped  in  a  magnetic 
wave  of  song  that  made  my  whole  being  vibrate 
in  sympathy  with  its  mysterious  uplifting  force.  I 
felt  that  I  was  being  welcomed  into  the  sanctuary 
of  goodwill,  of  human  affection.  A  call  from  the 
better  land  was  borne  to  me  upon  the  wings  of  this 
song,  and  like  a  harp  touched  by  the  breath  of 
the  spirit,  my  soul  began  to  sing  within  me.  I 
spoke  a  few  words  from  the  heart  to  all  these  new 
brothers,  who  plainly  received  me  from  the  heart, 
and  their  resolution  to  stand  by  one  another  in  life 
made  me  delighted  to  encounter  them.  Such  a  body 
of  men  is  a  power  for  good  in  a  city;  is  not  the 
purpose  of  men  to  move  upward  together  the  most 
irresistible  upward  impulse  in  life?  But  the  meet 
ing  was  over,  and  the  hour  had  come  for  the  chief 
service  of  the  morning,  in  the  auditorium  above. 

A  moving  spectacle  awaited  me  there.  On  plat- 


78     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

forms  at  opposite  ends  of  the  great  temple,  choirs 
of  young  girls  in  white  were  seated,  while  the  body 
of  the  church  and  the  galleries  were  crowded  with 
people  full  of  the  desire  for  edification.  Sympathy 
and  alertness  could  be  read  on  all  their  faces,  and 
when,  after  the  singing  of  the  choir,  I  began  my 
first  sermon  in  English,  in  the  midst  of  a  silence 
so  great  that  I  could  hear  my  heart  beat,  the  per 
fect  kindness  emanating  from  the  whole  great  con 
gregation  came  to  the  aid  of  the  guest  who  must 
speak  a  language  almost  strange  to  him;  it  upbore 
him  and  made  it  possible  for  him  to  give  forth, 
and  with  joy,  all  that  God  in  His  fatherly  kind 
ness  had  put  into  his  soul  for  these  brothers.  The 
pastors  of  Bethany — dear  Dr.  Dickey,  with  the 
record  of  suffering  and  the  power  of  loving  in  his 
gentle  and  intellectual  face,  and  Dr.  Patterson, 
just  returned  among  his  people  after  a  long  ill 
ness  and  a  grievous  separation — were  beside  me, 
while  members  of  the  church  were  seated  about  us, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  their  will  strengthened 
mine;  never  elsewhere  have  I  been  so  conscious  of 
the  aid  that  man  can  give  to  man.  Yet  I  saw  most 
of  them  for  the  first  time.  I  found  a  new  aspect  of 
truth  that  morning  in  the  familiar  words,  "  Where 


A   DAY   AT   BETHANY   CHURCH      79 

two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  my  name, 
there  will  I  be  in  the  midst  of  them." 

I  had  taken  my  text  from  the  Gospel  according  to 
Saint  John :  "  Show  us  the  father/'  and  Jesus'  re 
ply:  "  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  father." 
It  is  a  wonderful  saying,  this  reply  of  Jesus,  em 
bodying  the  central  truth  of  the  Gospel,  which  is 
that  "  The  place  in  the  world  where  God  is  nearest 
us,  is  a  man's  conscience  through  which  He  speaks 
to  us."  More  fully  than  in  the  marvels  of  creation, 
the  splendours  of  the  morning,  or  the  smiling  mys 
tery  of  the  starry  sky,  the  invisible  Father  has 
shown  Himself  to  us  in  the  eyes  of  Jesus.  Those 
eyes  looked  out  upon  the  infinite  life,  and  in  their 
mild  depths  might  be  read  what  passes  in  the  heart 
of  God  Himself  concerning  us.  But  out  of  this 
truth  another  springs:  God  did  not  only  clothe 
Himself  in  humanity  in  the  person  of  Jesus,  once 
and  in  an  extraordinary  way,  but  He  would  always 
reveal  Himself  in  this  way.  Jesus  says  in  this 
same  passage  from  John:  "He  that  believeth  on 
me,  the  works  that  I  do  shall  he  do  also;  "  like 
Him,  each  of  his  true  disciples  shows  us  the 
Father.  Every  man  is  a  witness,  a  messenger;  but 
alas,  there  are  two  kinds  of  messengers; — there 


80     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

are  some  who  announce  and  spread  night  by  the 
hardness  of  their  hearts,  and  the  maliciousness  of 
their  deeds,  veiling  the  face  of  the  Father  and  fill 
ing  the  earth  with  darkness.  Let  us  not  be  found 
among  them,  but  in  the  number  of  the  messengers 
of  day,  who  announce  a  more  beautiful  world,  and 
increase  man's  faith  and  hope;  let  us  show  the 
Father ! 

At  the  end  of  this  radiant  morning,  full  of  bless 
ings,  I  rested  a  little;  then,  at  about  two,  we  went 
back  to  "  Bethany  "  to  attend  a  meeting  of  the 
Bible  Union.  Mr.  Wanamaker  and  others,  among 
them  myself,  offered  explanations  of  certain  pas 
sages  from  Saint  Paul,  illustrating  them  from  per 
sonal  experience.  It  was  immediately  evident  that 
to  the  minds  of  these  men,  the  Bible  is  a  store-house 
from  which  a  supply  of  personal  force  is  to  be 
extracted;  that  they  were  not  so  much  concerned 
with  dogmatic  questions  or  scientific  exegesis,  as 
with  vital  and  individual  appropriation  of  the  soul's 
treasure  hidden  in  the  Book;  and  that  its  pages, 
which  have  come  down  from  such  a  far  past  and 
inspired  so  many  generations  of  readers,  awoke  in 
them  a  profound  respect. 

From  the  room  where  the  Bible  class  was  held, 


A   DAY   AT   BETHANY   CHURCH      81 

we  went  down  to  the  great  auditorium,  into  which 
people  were  pressing  in  crowds,  many  young  men 
and  women  among  them.  The  pastors  made  short 
addresses,  and  the  choirs  sang  very  beautiful 
hymns.  These  hymns  filled  me  with  delight  and  I 
repeated  to  myself  some  of  their  refrains  which 
are  prayers  in  themselves,  full  of  soul  and  power: 
nearer  to  Thee.  I  was  impressed  with  the  element 
of  life  in  all  these  services.  Liturgy,  the  tradi 
tional  element,  has  its  place  in  them,  but  it  receives 
a  daily  renewal  from  active  piety;  the  past  and 
the  present  in  worship  are  mingled  in  happy 
proportion. 

After  the  singing  of  one  of  the  hymns,  there  fell 
a  silence,  and  for  some  mysterious  reason,  at  that 
very  moment,  in  the  midst  of  thoughts  the  music 
had  suggested,  the  feeling  had  come  to  me  that  it 
would  be  good  to  hear  a  solo;  when,  as  though  in 
quick  response  to  the  desire  of  my  heart,  there 
came  forward  on  the  platform  a  lady  in  white,  a 
stranger  to  me,  and  in  a  magnificent  contralto,  rich 
with  an  intensity  of  religious  feeling  that  the  finest 
art  canriot  simulate,  she  sang,  "  If  I  were  a  Voice." 
Since  I  heard  "  Herr,  rvie  du  wilst"  sung  by  one 
of  the  sisters  in  the  Moravian  Church  at  Koenigs- 


82     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

feld,  I  had  never  felt  with  like  power  to  move, 
this  tone  straight  from  the  soul.  It  seized  upon  me 
and  transported  me  to  those  heights  of  the  eternal 
Gospel  where  the  dead  are  alive,  where  the  blind 
see,  the  soul's  languors  are  dissipated,  sin  is  van 
quished,  and  the  hope  of  the  saints  is  fulfilled. 
The  sound  of  this  voice  bestowed  upon  me  the  royal 
gift  of  a  moment  of  lofty  happiness,  a  pure  and 
divine  foretaste  of  the  true  life  hidden  behind  the 
obscurities  of  earth;  Schiller's  lines  sang  in  my 
memory : 

Wie  wenn,  nach  hoffnungslosem  Sehnen, 
Nach  langer  Trennung  bittrem  Schmerz, 
Ein  Kind,  mit  heissen  Reuethraenen 
Sich  stiirtzt  an  seiner  Mutter  Hertz, 
So  fiihrt  zu  seiner  Heimath  Hiitten, 
Zu  seiner  Jugend  erstem  Gliick, 
Vora  fernen  Ausland  fremder  Sitten, 
Den  Wandrer  der  Gesang  zuriick.* 

*  Even  as  a  child,  that,  after  pining 
For  the  sweet  absent  mother,  hears 
Her  voice  ;  and  round  her  neck  entwining 
Young  arms,  vents  all  his  soul  in  tears ; 
So,  by  harsh  Custom  far  estranged, 
Along  the  glad  and  guileless  track 
To  childhood's  happy  home  unchanged, 
The  swift  song  wafts  the  wanderer  back. 

— EDWARD  BULWER  LYTTON. 


A   DAY   AT   BETHANY   CHURCH      83 

The  voice  whose  song  woke  within  me  in  that 
blessed  hour  a  world  of  harmony  and  thought,  was 
one  which  I  have  since  learned  is  heard  in  all  sorts 
of  environments,  even  among  the  outcast.  May  it 
do  the  souls  of  many  of  our  brothers  the  good  it 
did  to  me  that  day!  I  believe  that  such  a  song  can 
touch  hearts  which  simple  speech  leaves  cold,  and 
can  carry  the  good  news  of  a  more  human,  more 
self-respecting,  and  purer  life,  to  hearts  that  are 
closed  to  the  usual  means  of  approach. 

In  a  neighbouring  part  of  the  building  the  Sun 
day-school  had  meanwhile  been  coming  together. 
Mr.  Wanamaker  is  the  superintendent,  and  his  zeal 
is  as  constant  here  as  in  the  Brotherhood;  it  may 
be  said  that  when  he  is  not  in  Europe,  he  is  never 
away  from  his  post,  and  this  regularity  is  a  fine 
example  for  the  thousands  of  children  belonging 
to  the  school,  an  encouragement  to  the  teachers, 
and  a  wonderful  moral  support  for  the  pastors  of 
the  church.  When  a  layman  does  not  pride  himself 
on  his  theology,  but  is  simply  a  man  who  learns 
his  daily  lesson  from  life,  and  seeks  to  show  the 
spirit  of  Christ  in  his  ordinary  relations,  this  co 
operation  is  especially  valuable;  such  a  man  brings 
his  active  experience  into  the  church,  as  a  happy 


84     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

corrective  of  lifeless  forms  and  dry  dogma.  Amer 
ican  laymen  are  a  precious  possession  to  their 
churches,  and  among  those  of  their  number  who 
know  how  to  join  perfect  simplicity  of  heart  to 
the  weight  conferred  by  an  exceptional  position,  I 
would  give  a  very  special  place  to  John  Wana- 
maker.  May  the  coming  generations  give  us  men 
of  his  kind,  that  the  salutary  tradition  of  their 
breadth  of  mind  and  active  piety  may  be  continued ! 

When  I  looked  out  over  the  Sunday-school  of 
Bethany  Church,  I  seemed  to  see  before  me  a 
garden  of  God.  There  were  thousands  of  chil 
dren,  with  their  fresh  faces  and  in  their  Sunday 
dress,  from  little  girls  and  boys  of  six  or  seven 
years  to  young  men  and  women  of  eighteen  and 
twenty. 

The  fine  Sunday-school  room  is  so  arranged  that 
it  may  be  divided  at  will  into  sections  entirely  iso 
lated  from  one  another,  thus  grouping  the  pupils 
into  classes  according  to  their  ages  and  needs.  I 
was  specially  interested  in  the  very  little  ones, 
gathered  in  numbers  around  a  lady  who  was  hold 
ing  their  attention  by  means  of  large  pictures, 
simple  and  lively  hymns,  and  instruction  fit  for 
their  young  minds.  These  charming  tots  sang  for 


A   DAY   AT   BETHANY   CHURCH      85 

me  with  great  earnestness  a  song  of  welcome,  in 
which  I  distinguished  the  refrain,  "  Good-morning 
to  you !  " 

When  the  moment  comes  for  the  general  lesson, 
the  children  are  all  united  again  by  the  with 
drawal  of  the  partitions,  a  manoeuvre  that  is  accom 
plished  rapidly  and  noiselessly.  In  some  American 
churches,  all  these  partitions  are  made  to  vanish  by 
the  simple  pressure  of  a  button  or  the  movement 
of  a  lever.  When  the  great  room  at  Bethany  Church 
has  been  again  thrown  into  one,  it  presents  a  beau 
tiful  sight.  A  fountain  with  banks  of  flowers  around 
it,  plays  in  the  centre;  the  picture  of  the  younger 
generation  receiving  the  teachings  of  evangelical 
tradition  in  this  attractive  place,  is  altogether 
charming. 

This  day,  whose  peaceful  and  beneficent  light 
recalled  to  my  mind  the  old  psalm,  "  A  day  in  thy 
courts  is  better  than  a  thousand,"  was  to  end  with 
the  communion  service.  We  returned  to  Bethany 
at  about  eight  o'clock;  Philadelphia  was  wrapped 
in  the  dusk  of  evening,  and  a  Sabbath  calm  reigned 
in  the  streets  and  brooded  over  the  dwellings ;  silent 
groups  were  making  their  way  toward  the  sanc 
tuaries;  a  breath  of  adoration  was  in  the  air.  It 


86     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

was  the  twilight  hour  when  in  the  vast  and  som 
bre  fields  of  azure,  those  flowers  of  eternity, 
the  stars,  begin  to  open,  and  inevitably  the  glance 
turns  upward.  I  crossed  the  threshold  of  the 
temple  in  silence,  my  soul  full  of  a  sense  of  the 
beyond. 

Inside,  the  people  were  quietly  assembling,  and 
the  lights  illumined  the  countless  sacred  vessels  on 
the  great  table:  here  were  the  bread  and  the  cup. 
After  a  hymn  had  been  sung,  my  friend  John 
Wanamaker  said  to  me,  speaking  low,  "  To-night 
you  are  our  guest  at  the  Supper  of  the  Lord,  talk 
to  us  like  a  brother." 

I  have  never  broken  this  bread,  as  the  Master 
taught  us  to  do  in  remembrance  of  Him,  without 
dedicating  my  soul  to  all  the  beloved  dead  and  all 
the  living.  The  great  question,  the  mystery  of  our 
common  life  of  love  and  suffering,  broods  over  this 
meal;  our  vision  of  the  solidarity  of  the  human 
family,  on  the  other  side  of  the  barriers  of  life's 
beginning,  and  beyond  the  barrier  of  the  tomb, 
grows  clearer  when  we  break  the  bread  with  Him 
who  moves  in  our  midst,  from  age  to  age,  in  the 
sacred  communion  of  trial  and  of  hope. 

On  that  night,  I  felt  His  presence  very  near; 


A   DAY   AT   BETHANY   CHURCH      87 

and  likewise  there  were  near  me  beloved  beings 
whom  I  have  lost,,  and  all  the  absent  loved  ones, 
left  behind  in  the  far-off  home;  and  the  circle  in 
creased  with  this  communion,,  grew  more  and  more 
vast.  For  was  I  not  in  Philadelphia,  the  City  of 
Brotherly  Love,  the  centre  of  so  much  fine  tradi 
tion;  was  I  not  in  the  midst  of  the  sons  of  Penn 
and  descendants  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers?  A  cloud 
of  invisible  witnesses  gathered  in  the  shadow,  above 
the  heads  of  the  living. 

When  the  time  came  for  me  to  speak,  my  inspi 
ration  rose  out  of  all  these  things,  and  it  was  given 
me  to  interpret,  as  I  felt  it,  the  great  solemnity  of 
the  hour.  The  hearts  about  me  were  touched  upon 
the  golden  cord  that  vibrates  under  the  eternal  emo 
tions,  and  by  a  perceptible  movement  of  the  Spirit, 
we  became  verily  one  soul. 

In  the  midst  of  one  of  those  moments  of  silence 
in  which  man  hears  the  passing  wings  of  minister 
ing  angels,  the  venerable  pastor  rose  to  pronounce 
the  words  of  consecration  which  bless  the  bread 
and  wine :  "  This  is  my  body.  .  .  .  This  is  my 
blood."  As  in  the  heart  of  a  thirsty  flower-cup  the 
dew-drops  gather,  so  these  words,  refreshing,  vivi- 
iying,  fell  upon  the  thirst  of  souls;  and  He  who 


88     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

would  be  all  in  all,  who  understands  all  men  and 
loves  them,  was  here  saying  to  us :  "  My  flesh  is 
meat  indeed,  and  my  blood  is  drink  indeed."  The 
fruit  of  His  sacrifice  was  renewed  in  us  all,  and 
each  felt  himself  infused  with  that  virtue  which 
strengthens  the  weak  hands  and  enlightens  the  un 
seeing  eyes.  The  secret  sources  of  the  higher  life 
seemed  to  be  unlocked,  and  currents  of  living  water 
to  flow  over  the  fields  of  the  spirit. 

There  are  moments  when  the  veil  that  hides  the 
great  mystery  seems  transparent,  when  by  faith  we 
seize  upon  the  eternal  life  at  a  glance.  There  is  no 
more  fear,  no  more  doubt,  no  more  discord,  but 
perfect  trust,  tranquil  assurance,  and  complete  har 
mony.  Every  valley  is  filled,  the  mountains  are 
made  low,  and  distance  is  overleaped:  what  seemed 
far  away  is  at  our  side,  what  we  thought  lost,  is 
found. 

Such  moments  have  an  infinite  richness;  the  cen 
turies  are  bound  up  within  them;  in  them  we  make 
provision  of  light  for  periods  of  darkness.  I  had 
just  lived  through  at  Bethany  Church  one  of  these 
eternal  moments.  What  a  precious  remembrance  of 
it  I  keep,  and  shall  always  keep !  How  I  bless  the 
Father  who  granted  it  to  me,  and  the  brothers  wh« 


A   DAY   AT   BETHANY   CHURCH      89 

made  it  possible!  Like  Jacob  when  he  turned  from 
Bethel,  I  said  within  myself  as  I  left  that  dear 
house  of  prayer:  "  Surely  Jehovah  is  in  this  place. 
.  .  .  This  is  none  other  than  the  house  of  God,  and 
this  is  the  gate  of  heaven." 


XVIII 
RELIGIOUS    LIFE 

ONE  of  the  outward  manifestations  of  re 
ligious  life  in  a  nation  is  church  attend 
ance,  and  at  the  hours  of  church  service 
the  streets  are  peopled  by  a  crowd  of  a  particular 
aspect.  At  all  times  the  passers  have  their  psy 
chology,  and  we  get  different  impressions  from 
watching  them  file  by,  according  as  they  may  be 
out  for  pleasure,  on  the  way  to  business,  or  return 
ing  from  the  races  or  a  play:  the  spirit  that  ani 
mates  them  depends  upon  the  occupation  of  the 
moment. 

In  American  cities,  on  Sunday  morning,  the  ave 
nues  leading  to  the  churches  present  a  spectacle  at 
once  of  peculiar  animation  and  of  calm.  All  the 
passers  seem  to  be  in  meditation ;  you  feel  that  they 
are  conscious  of  where  they  are  going,  and  are 
already  thinking  of  what  they  are  about  to  hear. 
On  their  way  homeward,  they  still  will  be  think 
ing;  in  a  word,  they  have  the  air  of  taking  very 

seriously  the  matter  that  is  occupying  them. 
90 


RELIGIOUS    LIFE  91 

It  is  unnecessary  to  point  out  to  me  what  super 
ficiality  such  an  observance,  once  become  a  habit, 
may  possess.  The  tendency  to  go  with  the  crowd 
exists  everywhere,  and  the  outward  religious  prac 
tices  of  some  people  may  be  as  snobbish  as  the 
irreligion  of  others.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  suppose 
that  in  these  crowds  borne  toward  the  churches  by 
this  movement,  there  may  be  found  people  who  are 
there  only  from  habit,  the  worldly,  and  hypocrites 
who  praise  God  on  Sunday  and  cheat  their  neigh 
bour  during  the  week;  the  world  is  the  world,  and 
men  are  men;  our  faults  accompany  us  everywhere 
as  well  as  our  good  qualities.  But  having  said  this 
in  order  to  make  it  clear  that  I  do  not  permit  my 
self  to  be  deceived  by  appearances,  I  reiterate  that 
I  was  greatly  impressed  by  this  Sunday  procession 
toward  the  churches. 

In  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Chicago,  wherever 
I  passed  a  Sunday,  I  saw  the  same  thing.  Even 
admitting  that  it  is  a  habit,  there  are  such  things 
as  good  ones,  and  among  the  best  is  that  of  setting 
a  day  apart  for  rest,  for  remembering  that  we 
aren't  beasts  of  burden,  and  for  going  to  join  with 
our  fellow-men  of  all  sorts  and  conditions,  in  giv 
ing  ourselves  up  to  thought  about  the  great  verities 


92     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

that  govern  life,  and  the  essential  courses  of  our 
destiny,  wherein,  underneath  the  surface  distinc 
tions,  we  are  all  one.  In  certain  outward  habits  may 
be  found  true  and  faithful  manifestations  of  the 
invisible. 

Religious  life  in  America  is  represented  by  a 
multitude  of  societies  and  denominations,  that  run 
the  whole  gamut  of  man's  ideas  and  emotions. 
Among  these  divers  groups  there  exist  contrasts 
and  contradictions,  but  at  bottom  their  very  num 
ber  is  a  sign  of  splendid  vitality.  One  might  well 
question  whether  in  small  centres  several  little 
chapels  are  not  a  harmful  luxury;  whether  it  might 
not  be  advisable  to  consolidate,  so  as  to  better  work 
for  an  end  which  is,  after  all,  common;  and  the 
question  daily  presents  itself  with  more  and  more 
insistence;  but  from  the  state  of  affairs  as  they 
practically  exist,  observations  may  be  made  as  fa 
vourable  as  these  are  unfavourable. 

To  begin  with,  entire  liberty  is  the  boon  common 
to  all  these  churches;  no  distinctions  are  made  in 
favour  of  any  one  of  them  or  to  its  detriment. 
Church  members  maintain  their  worship  at  their 
own  expense,  and  organise  it  as  to  them  seems 
good.  In  the  atmosphere  of  this  general  freedom, 


RELIGIOUS    LIFE  93 

everybody  respects  his  neighbour,  and  for  one 
church  to  preach  against  another,  is  contrary  to  the 
universal  practice;  each  does  the  best  it  can,  and 
leaves  its  neighbour  unmolested.  Among  the  differ 
ent  Protestant  denominations  cordial  relations  exist, 
and  are  all  the  time  increasing;  they  feel  that  they 
have  need  of  one  another,  and  opportunities  for 
fraternising  are  eagerly  sought,  while  points  of 
contact  multiply  from  year  to  year.*  This  has  not 
always  been  the  case.  America  has  known  periods 
of  sharp  intolerance,  and  it  is  quite  true  that  it 
does  not  require  a  long  search  to  find  actual  and 
operative  instances  of  that  sectarian  bias  which  de 
nies  those  of  different  ideas  a  right  to  the  name 
of  Christians;  but  a  tremendous  advance  has  been 
made  toward  mutual  justice  and  respect  for  the  soul 
and  the  beliefs  of  others.  Narrowness  is  becoming 
the  extreme  exception;  breadth  of  view  is  the  rule. 
America  has  learned  freedom  and  respect  for  free 
dom  in  the  school  of  history,  she  has  seen  whither 
religious  absolutism  leads,  and  the  national  tem 
perament,  such  as  it  has  gradually  been  shaped  by 

*  Quite  recently  several  associations  have  been  formed, 
whose  object  is  to  promote  friendly  intercourse  between  the 
clergy  of  different  denominations,  and  to  further  the  cause  of 
religious  unity. 


94     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

goodwill,  perseverance,  and  the  desire  to  be,  above 
all  things,  just  to  every  one,  has  been  slowly  rid 
ding  itself  of  the  pest  of  sectarianism. 

My  books  had  made  me  known  among  people  of 
denominations  the  most  diverse,  so  that  I  was  in 
vited  to  give  lectures  and  to  preach  in  Presbyterian, 
Episcopal,  Methodist,  Unitarian,  Congregational 
and  Baptist  churches.  I  even  had  the  rare  privilege 
of  speaking  in  a  synagogue,  something  that  even 
in  America  was  an  exceptional  event,  and  the  day 
before  my  departure  I  received  a  letter  from  the 
President  of  a  society  of  Catholic  ladies,  begging 
me  to  give  a  lecture  in  behalf  of  one  of  the  society's 
objects.  I  greatly  regretted  that  the  nearness  of 
my  sailing  prevented  me  from  giving  a  proof  of 
sincere  and  fraternal  sympathy  for  the  Catholic 
Church. 

In  Protestant  churches  there  is  often  to  be  ob 
served  what  seems  to  me  a  very  happy  commingling 
of  tradition  and  modern  thought.  It  first  impresses 
itself  in  the  aspect  of  church  buildings,  in  which 
one  finds  himself  enveloped  in  an  atmosphere  and 
surrounded  by  objects  wherein  respect  for  the  past 
is  happily  combined  with  independent  and  active 
piety.  Naturally  exceptions  are  not  wanting,  and 


RELIGIOUS    LIFE  95 

formalism  and  the  barrenness  of  dogma  on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  other,  the  barrenness  of  ration 
alism,  the   absence   of  the   mystical   element,   and 
mis j  udgment  of  the  soul  of  the  past,  are  phenomena 
to  be  met  with  here  as  well  as  in  the  old  world; 
but  the  general  impression  is  that  of  a  healthy  and 
active  piety,  respectful  toward  the  spirit  of  tradi 
tion,  which  it  perpetuates  intelligently  in  the  most 
liberal  manifestations  of  contemporaneous  thought 
and  feeling.  This  fact  enabled  me  to  arrive  at  a 
good  understanding  with  those  Christians  of  Amer 
ica  whom  I  met,  and  I  learned  to  like  them  greatly 
for    their    amenity,    their    open-mindedness,    their 
warmth,  and  the  boldness  of  their  views.  Disciple 
of  a  liberal  and  popular  interpretation  of  the  ever 
lasting  Gospel,  having  for  thirty  years  expended 
my  strength  in  an  effort  to  put  into  ordinary  and 
comprehensible  language  the  old  exalted  truths,  I 
have  sometimes  had  the  misfortune,  on  our  beloved 
older    continent,    to    be    taken    for    an    iconoclast, 
whereas  night  and  day  I  toil  at  shaping  stones  and 
putting  them  into  place,  in  order  to  do  my  part 
toward  building  the  new  city  of  the  soul.  But  in 
America  all  the  spiritual  joys  one  experiences  at 
being  profoundly  understood,  were   so   richly  be- 


96     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

stowed  upon  me,  that  I  ought  never  again  to  com 
plain  of  the  little  bitternesses  inflicted  by  prejudice 
and  narrowness  of  soul. 

A  host  of  American  churches  are  institutional, 
that  is  to  say,  they  include  very  complete  social  and 
educational  organisations.  Their  vast  basements  as 
well  as  adjacent  buildings  are  used  for  gatherings 
of  children  and  young  people,  for  reading  circles, 
sewing  classes,  and  various  entertainments.  Many 
times  I  saw  tables  set  in  these  halls,  for  friendly 
suppers  of  the  different  societies.  In  such  ways  the 
members  of  a  congregation  are  brought  together 
elsewhere  than  in  religious  meetings,  and  the  church 
becomes  a  centre  where  the  lonely  may  find  a  fam 
ily,  and  youth  have  companionship  in  an  atmosphere 
favourable  to  its  education  and  progress.  At  many 
of  these  social  gatherings  there  is  singing;  both 
vocal  and  instrumental  music  receive  great  atten 
tion,  and  the  collections  of  hymns  are  very  well 
made  and  suited  to  the  time,  giving  expression  to 
religious  feeling  in  a  multitude  of  stirring  and  mod 
ern  ways.  And  the  joining  of  the  congregation  in 
the  singing  of  the  choirs  at  Sunday  services,  pro 
duces  a  result  that  filled  me  with  admiration.  The 
richness  of  this  fine  singing,  full  of  force  and 


RELIGIOUS    LIFE  97 

expression,  is  wonderfully  edifying;  how  many 
times  did  its  harmony  transport  me,  refresh  me, 
inspire  me ! 

The  atmosphere  of  freedom  has  brought  forth 
upon  the  American  soil  a  Catholicism  of  a  very 
particular  kind,  active,  original,  determined  to  ad 
vance  in  accord  with  what  is  best  in  our  epoch. 
We  have  become  acquainted  with  it  in  France 
through  a  great  number  of  publications,  particu 
larly  the  works  of  the  Abbe  Klein.  It  has  the 
highest  claims  upon  our  attention  and  sympathy, 
and  holds  within  it  useful  lessons  not  only  for  the 
Catholicism  but  also  for  the  Protestantism  of  our 
old  European  countries.  The  spirit  of  freedom,  of 
Christian  hardihood,  of  wide  and  intelligent  com 
prehension  of  the  new  duties  of  Christ's  disciples, 
finds  within  it  individual  expression  of  exceptional 
value,  and  produces  aggregates  that  leave  nothing 
to  be  desired  from  the  standpoint  of  practical  power 
for  the  moral  and  religious  progress  of  the  com 
munities  in  whose  midst  their  activity  is  displayed. 
I  made  it  a  duty,  as  I  felt  it  a  pleasure,  to  go  as 
far  as  St.  Paul,  for  the  purpose  of  presenting  my 
respects  to  the  venerable  Archbishop  Ireland.  In 
the  spirit  in  which  it  is  represented  by  this  great 


98     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

and  good  man,  and  by  many  of  the  most  authorita 
tive  of  his  colleagues,  Catholicism  is  eminently 
sympathetic;  it  is  very  American,  liberal,  deter 
mined  to  live  in  harmony  with  the  other  religious 
bodies. 

Beyond  question,  another  Catholicism,  particu 
laristic,  exclusive,  exists  by  its  side,  whose  present 
course  can  but  be  deplored  by  the  friends  of  the 
broader  and  more  generous  Catholic  Church,  among 
whom  I  shall  always  count  myself.  I  am  going  to 
present  some  reflections  which  this  attempt  at  a 
retrograde  movement  has  suggested;  they  are  as 
applicable  to  the  other  religious  bodies  as  to  Catho 
lics,  and  true  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean. 

The  churches  are  able  to  marshal  a  great  num 
ber  of  forces,  among  which  are  a  tremendous  power 
of  resistance  for  opposing  what  they  think  they 
ought,  and  a  beautiful  and  wonderful  power  of 
attraction  and  assimilation,  for  drawing  to  them 
selves  and  absorbing  whatever  seems  to  be  advan 
tageous  to  them.  The  more  considerable  a  power  is, 
the  more  discerningly  should  it  be  employed;  do 
the  churches  always  use  these  great  forces  with 
sufficient  discernment  as  to  their  duty  and  their 
higher  interests  ?  It  is  a  question  that  one  may  well 


RELIGIOUS    LIFE  99 

ask.  In  spite  of  their  wisdom,  so  ripe,  so  marvel 
lously  subtle,  a  wisdom  that  we  wish  we  might 
always  hold  in  respect,  it  sometimes  happens  that 
they  become  confused  between  the  uses  of  their 
powers  of  resistance  and  those  of  their  powers  of 
attraction,  and  too  often  when  the  latter  should  be 
called  into  action,  they  employ  the  former;  they 
rear  a  massive  barrier  in  the  way  of  what  they 
ought  to  welcome,  and  welcome  what  they  ought 
to  oppose. 

The  religious  bodies  that  have  taken  upon  them 
selves  the  task  of  making  specially  prominent  their 
combative  qualities,  have  failed  at  the  same  time 
in  their  duty  to  themselves  and  their  duty  to  their 
time.  In  considering  the  present  situation  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  for  example,  are  not  her  well- 
wishers  justified  in  thinking  she  has  done  herself 
wrong  in  Europe,  and  especially  in  France,  by  as 
suming  a  repulsive  and  combative  attitude  toward 
certain  essential  principles  of  the  modern  world, 
like  freedom  of  conscience  and  of  investigation, 
equal  rights,  democracy,  and  historical  criticism? 
while  it  is  to  the  cordial  reception  of  these  prin 
ciples  that  she,  as  well  as  all  contemporary  religious 
groups,  might  owe  a  new  evolution,  beneficial  to 


100     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

the  whole  world,  of  a  destiny  already  so  far-reach 
ing  and  so  splendid?  Why  wage  a  mortal  warfare 
against  that  which  would  be  your  salvation,  and 
cherish  or  receive  with  hospitality  ideas  and  prac 
tices  injurious  to  you? 

American  Catholicism  is  a  plain  proof  of  the 
justice  of  these  reflections;  what  has  made  it  pow 
erful  and  capable  of  maintaining  itself  is  the  at 
mosphere  of  freedom  breathed  in  America.,  and  a 
great  danger  would  threaten  its  development  the 
moment  it  should  give  heed  to  badly  inspired  coun 
sellors.  It  would  be  contrary  to  the  most  elementary 
wisdom,  to  try  to  introduce  into  the  land  of  liberty 
the  old  methods  that  have  so  often  brought  the 
Church  under  suspicion  with  liberal  Europe.  Why 
array  ourselves  against  the  liberty  and  the  public 
laws  under  whose  protection  we  flourish? 
*  *  •*  *  * 

Among  the  elements  that  go  to  make  up  the 
essential  substance  of  what  I  shall  call  the  better 
America,  the  religious  element  is  chief,  and  one 
of  the  great  problems  confronting  the  country  to 
day,  is  the  transference  of  its  religious  inheritance 
into  thought  and  expression  that  can  be  assim 
ilated  by  the  modern  mind.  If  religious  America, 


RELIGIOUS    LIFE  101 

following  the  course  of  certain  religious  bodies  of 
Europe,  should  attempt  to  isolate  itself  from  mod 
ern  thought,  to  stop  its  ears,  after  the  manner  of 
decrepit  and  servile  conservatism,  it  would  gradu 
ally  degenerate  into  a  foreign  body  at  the  heart  of 
the  nation,  become  simply  a  "  force  of  inertia," 
instead  of  remaining,  as  it  should  do,  and  has  done 
hitherto,  the  nation's  true  controlling  force.  To 
direct,  inspire  and  inform  the  public  spirit,  to  guide 
the  course  of  the  education  of  youth,  to  epitomise 
in  an  ideal  that  is  ever  being  renewed,  all  the  bet 
ter  aspirations  of  a  people,  demands  a  living  force, 
neglectful  of  nothing,  disdainful  of  nothing,  unit 
ing  the  pious  remembrance  that  guards  what  is  best 
in  the  heritage  of  the  past,  with  the  spirit  of  re 
search,  of  toil,  of  that  freedom  by  which  the  future 
is  to  be  conquered. 

America  will  know  how  to  resolve  this  problem, 
because  she  keeps  herself  in  readiness  to  receive 
the  new  impulsions  of  that  divine  Spirit,  which 
alone  is  able,  at  the  successive  stages  of  humanity, 
to  disclose  to  us  the  necessary  "  word  proceeding 
out  of  the  mouth  of  God,"  and  to  furnish  us  the 
fresh  manna  essential  to  our  souls.  She  has,  in  all 
her  different  denominations,  a  great  number  of  men 


102     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

who  have  arrived  at  harmonising,  in  their  inner  life, 
respect  for  sacred  tradition  and  the  duty  of  keep 
ing  in  contact  with  the  life  of  the  present  and  its 
needs.  These  men  avail  themselves  of  every  source 
of  light  that  might  aid  them  to  translate  the  old 
verities  into  new  language,  without  letting  any  part 
of  them  go.  We  were  happy  to  find  in  their  hands 
the  books  of  our  noted  compatriot,  Auguste  Saba- 
tier,  one  of  the  most  faithful  believers  and  one  of 
the  best  authorities  of  modern  times.  The  synthesis 
of  tradition  with  the  aspirations  of  the  present, 
found  in  him,  and  has  found  in  his  writings,  a 
most  happy  expression.  He  is  one  of  those  to 
whom,  when  the  ways  have  been  opened,  the  ob 
stacles  overcome,  and  the  new  places  for  the  soul's 
refuge  established,  the  future  will  owe  most.  Hav 
ing  known  him  well  and  loved  him  much,  and 
having  shared  the  suffering  that  the  suspicions  of 
a  narrow  ecclesiasticism  made  this  valiant  spiritual 
pioneer  undergo,  I  experienced  a  profound  joy 
when  I  saw  that  by  the  grace  of  God,  who  brings 
the  dead  to  life,  this  dear  one  departed  is  among 
those  who  are  aiding  here  to  build  the  religious  city 
of  to-morrow. 


XIX 

THE    BIBLE    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES 

WHEN  the  men  of  old  went  out  from 
their  native  country  to  establish  colo 
nies,,  they  carried  with  them,  as  the 
most  important  of  their  possessions,  their  household 
gods;  for  there  are  divinities  august  and  far  re 
moved,,  and  there  are  familiar  divinities.  We  have 
need  that  the  facts  of  domestic  life,  the  everyday 
duties  and  joys  and  sorrows,  be  under  the  protec 
tion  of  a  sanctifying  and  reassuring  watchfulness. 
The  early  American  colonists,  especially  those 
who  contributed  most  toward  making  the  country 
what  it  has  become,  brought  with  them  the  Bible. 
Often  they  had  been  the  victims  of  a  narrow  sec 
tarianism,  whose  violent  persecution  had  forced 
them  to  leave  their  native  soil.  Uprooted  as  they 
were,  torn  away  from  all  their  old  traditions,  they 
came  as  strangers  to  a  strange  land,  with  an  utterly 
new  life  before  them.  But  fortunately  for  them, 
they  brought  with  them  that  Bible  which  is  in  itself 

a  tradition  and  a  fatherland. 
103 


104     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

When  they  opened  it,  at  night,  under  the  new 
shelters  they  had  made  themselves  in  their  clearings 
in  the  forest  solitudes,  the  feeling  in  their  hearts 
was  like  that  of  a  man  separated  from  his  country 
and  his  kin,  when  he  looks  at  the  stars.  He  sees 
what  he  has  often  seen  before,  in  his  home  land. 
This  same  light  which  smiled  on  his  childhood  and 
is  still  shedding  its  rays  over  the  country  he  has 
left  behind,  greets  him  here.  In  these  changed 
surroundings,  how  good  it  is  to  see  something  that 
is  changeless !  So  for  these  colonists  of  the  new 
world,  to  open  the  Bible  in  the  midst  of  their 
families  was  to  illumine  their  hearths  with  a  flame 
that  radiated  the  dearest  memories  of  the  past  and 
the  greatest  cheer  for  the  future.  Is  not  this  Book 
heavy  with  all  men's  griefs  and  exultant  with  all 
their  hopes?  Is  it  not  an  inexhaustible  quarry 
whence  granite  and  marble  may  be  drawn  for  the 
building  of  new  cities?  Without  traditions,  laws,  or 
political  organisation,  utterly  self-dependent  in  the 
face  of  a  wilderness  of  unexplored  territory,  these 
first  American  colonists  found  all  their  needs  sup 
plied  in  the  Good  Book.  It  was  their  riches  in  the 
midst  of  poverty,  and  since  they  owed  it  more  than 
others  do,  and  were  conscious  of  their  debt,  they 


THE    BIBLE  105 

loved  it  more.  And  this  love  for  the  Book  which 
furnished  them  the  foundations  of  their  cities,  the 
basis  of  their  Constitution,  the  shelter  over  their 
heads  and  the  nutriment  of  their  souls,  this  love 
in  which  gratitude  was  blended  with  faith  and 
experience,  they  have  handed  down  to  their  suc 
cessors. 

It  does  not  matter  that  floods  of  people,  with  the 
blood  and  the  ideas  of  all  the  nations  on  earth,  pour 
into  the  United  States;  at  the  root  of  the  national 
life,  at  the  very  heart  of  the  American  people, 
wrought  out  of  the  best  elements  of  a  tolerant  and 
harmonious  religion,  and  the  most  fundamental 
principles  of  a  true  and  sure  morality,  the  biblical 
mentality  is  intrenched.  Everybody  understands  the 
Bible  language  and  its  splendid  and  impressive 
figures.  In  everyday  speech,  in  the  style  of  au 
thors  and  journalists,  in  college  instruction,  in  the 
speeches  of  statesmen,  on  all  sides,  in  fact,  you 
encounter,  not  exact  quotations  nor  the  odious  cant 
phrases  that  are  almost  invariably  a  sign  of  hypoc 
risy,  but  involuntary  reminiscences  of  the  poetry 
of  the  Bible,  colours  borrowed  from  Bible  land 
scapes,  breaths  wafted  from  Tabor  or  Golgotha. 

America  has  not  only  its  Bible  societies,  Bible 


106     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

houses  and  Bible  classes,  it  even  has  Bible  Teach 
ers'  Training  Schools.  I  visited  the  one  at  New 
York,  which  is  in  fact  a  little  university.  The  aim 
of  these  schools  is  to  make  the  Bible  known  to  those 
who  wish  to  teach  or  interpret  it,  and  some  of  their 
characteristic  methods  and  ideas  are  very  worthy  of 
being  noted.  I  transcribe  what  follows  from  the 
prospectus  of  the  New  York  school. 

The  Church's  greatest  need  is  acquaintance  with 
the  Scriptures.  The  unification  of  Christendom,  so 
much  to  be  desired,  must  come  about  neither  from 
sentimental  nor  from  practical  considerations,  but 
from  a  profounder  initiation  into  the  truths  of  the 
faith,  a  thing  to  be  acquired  only  through  the 
study  of  the  Bible. 

The  Bible  should  be  studied  with  the  same  scien 
tific  and  critical  acumen  as  any  other  book,  and  in 
accordance  with  the  most  approved  methods. 

Again,  we  should  endeavour  to  take  a  fresh  view 
of  the  facts,  not  permitting  ourselves  to  be  ham 
pered  or  limited  by  any  system  or  doctrine;  at  the 
same  time  we  should  avoid  the  mistake  of  thinking 
we  have  nothing  to  learn  from  our  predecessors. 
For  there  are  these  two  fatal  tendencies  in  pursu 
ing  any  study  whatever :  one,  the  tendency  to  accept 


THE    BIBLE  107 

everything  at  second  hand;  the  other,  the  tendency 
to  refuse  so  to  accept  anything. 

And  again:  Never  put  anything  into  the  Scrip 
tures,  but  draw  out  of  them  everything  they  really 
contain. 

These  are  excellent  principles,  and  numbers  of 
enlightened  friends  of  the  Bible  in  America  are 
striving  to  follow  them.  Far  from  fleeing  the  re 
searches  of  science  in  these  matters,  they  eagerly 
follow  their  lead,  and  do  everything  possible  to 
spread  them  abroad.  And  what  good  foundation 
they  have  for  the  confidence  they  thus  show!  The 
Bible  is  a  book  in  which  the  religious  light  and 
moral  warmth  of  the  past  are  conserved,  as  pri 
meval  vegetations,  with  all  the  sunshine  they  had 
drunk  in,  are  condensed  in  the  earth's  mines.  Such 
a  store  of  sunshine  can  be  turned  again  into  light: 
but  do  not  approach  this  book  with  preconceived 
ideas  of  it.  The  Bible  is  the  least  exclusive  of 
books.  It  may  be  compared  to  his  Father's  house, 
in  which  Jesus  said  are  many  mansions.  If  the  dif 
ferent  classes  of  human  minds  would  be  willing  to 
install  themselves  each  in  its  own  mansion,  without 
claiming  it  to  be  the  only  one,  and  let  their  neigh 
bours  do  the  same,  from  this  dwelling  together  in 


108     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

brotherliness  would  proceed  a  wealth  of  view.  For 
the  Bible  is  comprehensive  as  no  other  book  is.  All 
the  happy  contradictions  which  go  to  make  up  life, 
and  which  sectarians  methodically  exclude  from 
their  conception  of  things,  are  reconciled  and  har 
monised  in  the  Bible.  Systems  stultify  us  with  all 
their  logic;  the  Bible  is  a  reflection  of  life  itself, 
unbounded,  illimitable ;  in  its  atmosphere  we  breathe 
freely,  and  the  study  of  the  Scriptures  without  any 
dogmatic  reservations,  is  the  best  tonic  for  the  mind 
of  religious  men.  From  this  point  of  view,  it  is 
perhaps  even  more  a  book  of  the  future  than  of  the 
past.  Certain  alarmist  authorities  have  named  the 
Bible  the  book  of  heretics,  by  which  they  mean  to 
characterise  it  as  a  book  dangerous  when  free,  only 
salutary  when  in  bondage.  So  they  have  sluiced  its 
unfettered  and  vigorous  torrents,  to  make  them 
turn  the  wheels  of  their  own  particular  mills.  But 
there  always  comes  a  day  when  the  torrents  break 
loose,  bearing  wheels,  mills  and  millers  away  with 
them. 

The  power  of  powers — that  power  of  which  all 
the  manifestations  of  matter  in  action,  the  widest 
display  of  creative  energy  as  well  as  the  most  sub 
tle,  the  swiftest  and  most  formidable  destructive 


THE    BIBLE  109 

forces,  are  but  feeble  symbols — is  the  Spirit;  and 
the  human  expression  of  the  Spirit  is  the  Word. 
The  Word  is  sacred,  let  no  one  lay  hands  upon  its 
liberty.  And  this  Word  in  the  sense  of  the  best 
that  has  been  thought  and  said  in  the  world,  is  the 
Bible.  Both  in  detail  and  as  a  whole,  it  has  been 
subjected  to  much  violence;  all  the  weapons  of  de 
ceit  and  malignity  have  been  turned  against  it;  yet 
its  worst  enemies  have  not  been  its  antagonists  but 
its  injudicious  friends  who  try  to  domesticate  it  in 
their  sacristies.  The  Bible  is  like  the  eagles ;  it  must 
have  perfect  freedom  to  spread  its  wings.  Let  the 
Word  take  its  free  and  natural  flight,  and  it  will 
be  your  salvation,  it  is  the  most  resistless,  the  most 
deathless,  and  the  most  hopeful  of  all  our  inheri 
tances,  and  at  the  same  time  the  least  tyrannical 
and  the  least  intolerant. 

In  this  Book,  there  are  hosts  of  the  dead  who  are 
living,  and  who  would  speak  to  the  living  that  are 
dead;  it  will  always  be  the  marvellous  Book  of  all 
the  alliances,  old  or  new,  through  which  we  are 
strong.  The  best  wish  to  be  made  for  America  is 
that  she  may  remain  capable  of  understanding  and 
loving  this  Book  and  its  inexhaustible  Spirit,  so 
that  fresh  shoots  from  the  old  and  vigorous  stock 


110     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

of  the  Prophets  and  the  Gospel,  may  be  put  forth 
with  each  new  generation. 

While  we  are  speaking  of  the  Bible,  let  us  in 
conclusion  trace  a  parallel  between  two  very  dif 
ferent  ways  of  using  it.  To  some  people  it  is  an 
arsenal  stocked  with  weapons  for  assailing  their 
neighbours,  in  which  all  the  engines  of  destruction 
may  be  found,  from  the  most  primitive  to  the  most 
elaborate.  Churches  and  sects  have  drawn  much 
upon  this  collection.  In  running  through  the  Bible 
from  this  point  of  view,  it  is  easy  to  point  out  pas 
sages  by  which  this  or  that  doctrine  is  demolished, 
this  or  that  heresy  throttled;  the  fields  of  battle, 
the  places  of  execution  and  massacre  are  definitely 
marked.  But  the  Bible  was  not  made  to  help  us 
destroy  one  another,  to  employ  it  so  is  to  abuse  it, 
to  commit  the  crime  that  is  always  possible,  in  put 
ting  even  the  best  things  to  wrong  uses. 

There  are  others,  happily,  to  whom  the  Bible 
appears  as  an  immense  store-house  of  invigorating 
strength,  of  enlightenment  of  soul,  and  of  tender 
ness.  When  it  is  looked  at  from  this  point  of  view, 
its  pages  recall  countless  benefits  to  mankind.  The 
unhappy  and  unfortunate  of  all  the  ages,  have  taken 
refuge  in  its  high  sanctuaries.  There  broken  cour- 


THE    BIBLE  111 

age  has  been  restored,  hearts  tortured  by  the  re 
membrance  of  sin  have  found  pardon;  the  Book's 
wealth  lies  not  only  in  its  own  resources,  but  also 
in  the  immense  capital  of  the  good  it  has  done.  The 
latter  way  of  understanding  the  Scriptures  has  a 
growing  representation  in  the  United  States. 


XX 
WITH    THE    FRIENDS 

AMONG  the  various  groups  of  the  American 
people,  whose  reception  remains  vivid  in 
my  remembrance,  I  ought  to  mention  spe 
cially  the  Society  of  Friends,  most  numerous  to-day 
in  Philadelphia,  the  city  of  Penn.  People  of  severe 
and  sturdy  simplicity,  scornful  of  lying  conventions 
and  formal  prescriptions,  the  Friends  have  long 
preached  and  practised  "  the  simple  life,"  so  that 
a  lively  sympathy  inclined  them  toward  my  ideas, 
in  which  they  recognised  what  had  been  their  own 
ideals  and  aspirations  for  centuries.  For  my  part, 
I  had  long  had  the  desire  of  encountering  some  of 
them.  It  had  happened  to  me,  here  and  there,  in 
the  course  of  my  life,  to  know  people  whose  relig 
ious  practices  were  of  this  laic  form,  broad  and 
truly  human,  and  their  uprightness  and  unpreten 
tious  kindness  had  made  an  extraordinary  impres 
sion  upon  me ;  for  nothing  wins  me  like  directness, 
sincerity,  and  absence  of  affectation. 

The  Friends  have  so  far  broken  with  formalism, 
112 


WITH    THE    FRIENDS  113 

that  they  might  almost  be  considered  formalists 
from  excess  of  informality;  for  instance,  it  is  not 
permitted  them  to  invite  any  one  to  their  meetings. 
I  was  not,  then,  in  any  sense  invited  among  them, 
and  I  should  have  been  for  ever  deprived  of  the 
pleasure  of  being  there,  had  I  waited  for  the  mak 
ing  of  a  definite  engagement;  but  there  came  a 
suggestion,  almost  by  chance,  that  I  go  without 
ceremony.  So  I  went,  and  nobody  seemed  to  ob 
serve  the  fact. 

I  found  the  meeting-house  furnished  with  noth 
ing  but  benches — no  organ  was  there,  no  religious 
symbolism.  The  windows  are  so  placed  as  to  light 
the  room  very  judiciously,  but  not  so  that  one  may 
see  what  is  going  on  outside.  All  the  Friends  are 
laymen,  there  are  no  clergy.  When  they  come  to 
gether,  each  one  takes  his  seat  in  silence,  without 
paying  any  attention  to  his  neighbours;  no  one 
looks  about,  and  no  matter  what  visitor  chances  to 
arrive,  no  one  disturbs  himself,  but  everybody  ap 
pears  indifferent  to  his  coming;  it  would  seem  that 
the  Friends  had  borrowed  from  the  old  Stoics  their 
nil  mirari. 

The  meeting  begins  in  silence ;  there  is  no  liturgy, 
no  chant,  and  nobody  says  anything ;  they  all  think. 


114     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

The  faces  are  characteristically  serious  and  benevo 
lent,  and  on  all  sides  reign  a  great  calm  and  the 
spirit  of  peace.  Never  have  I  better  understood  the 
speech  of  silence  than  in  this  assembly  dedicated 
to  meditation.  If  no  one  finds  sufficient  reason  for 
breaking  this  silence,  the  congregation  departs  as 
it  came,  after  the  lapse  of  a  reasonable  time,  and 
it  does  not  enter  any  one's  mind  to  regret  that  no 
word  has  been  spoken. 

It  is  said  that  the  Arabs  mistrust  the  loquacious 
and  honour  the  silent;  in  this  matter  the  Friends 
are  Arabs ;  yet  it  seemed  evident  to  me  that  to  come 
and  go  without  uttering  a  word,  would  be  an  offence 
against  one  of  their  fundamental  principles,  which 
is  to  speak  when  you  are  moved  to.  I  was  moved  to 
speak,  and  as  I  had  a  number  of  things  to  say,  I 
arose,  and  said  them,  where  I  was.  Several  men  and 
women  replied,  and  after  the  meeting,  a  number  of 
them  came  up,  all  "  thee-and-thouing  "  me,  accord 
ing  to  their  custom: — "  I  have  read  thy  book."  "  I 
am  pleased  to  meet  thee." 

Among  themselves  the  Friends  are  absolutely 
delightful,  and  their  calm  does  the  soul  no  end  of 
good  in  this  restless  age.  I  never  tired  of  contem 
plating  some  of  their  good  faces,  at  once  full  of  life 


WITH    THE    FRIENDS  115 

and  of  peace;  I  was  particularly  struck  with  the 
depth  and  beauty  of  one  venerable  man's  blue  eyes. 
Fear  nothing,  be  not  dismayed,  do  not  worry,  .do 
not  hurry ;  act  with  good  sense  and  tranquillity,  and 
trust  in  God — this  sums  up  a  goodly  number  of 
their  principles.  Another  is  to  respect  the  soul  of 
every  man.  No  other  people  have  a  like  veneration 
for  conscience,  or  show  more  delicacy  of  respect 
for  its  integrity;  there  are  no  autocrats  among 
them,  no  use  of  compulsion;  every  individuality  is 
sacred;  never,  according  to  their  ideas,  should  we 
substitute  our  own  conscience  for  another  man's, 
influencing  him  to  acts  in  which  he  is  nothing  but 
our  instrument. 

The  Friends  cannot  be  judged  by  their  number, 
quite  limited  to-day,  nor  by  surface  appearances, 
nor  by  the  position  they  seem  to  occupy  in  the 
world.  As  they  are  modest  and  scorn  the  trumpet 
ing'  of  good  deeds,  it  takes  time  to  inform  yourself 
of  their  value  as  an  active  principle  in  the  society 
of  the  time. 

The  fact  is  that  by  reason  of  their  honesty,  their 
thrifty  simplicity,  their  contented  minds  and  me 
thodical  ways,  they  have  long  held  an  extraordi 
nary  position.  Some  of  the  most  important  of  the 


116     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

country's  affairs  are  in  their  hands,  and  are  passed 
on  from  father  to  son;  for  as  business  men  the 
Friends  are  wise  and  scrupulous.  Many  of  them 
have  large  fortunes,  but  they  make  no  display  of 
their  charities,  and  this  unobtrusive  generosity  is 
greatly  to  their  honour. 

Several  of  the  best  schools  of  Philadelphia  and 
its  vicinity  are  under  the  direction  of  the  Friends, 
some  of  them  restricted  to  their  own  children, 
others  for  the  benefit  of  the  community  at  large. 
Much  work  and  little  noise,  seems  to  be  the  device 
of  these  educators,  and  their  calm  is  itself  a  power 
in  education.  The  best  schoolmaster  is  he  whom 
nothing  astonishes,  and  whose  disposition  is  per 
fectly  even,  provided  it  be  not  too  inflexible.  These 
Quaker  teachers  do  not  try  to  win  their  pupils  by 
smiles  and  cajolery;  nothing  of  the  sort;  they  are 
simply  kind  with  unvarying  kindness.  A  too  de 
monstrative  kindness  is  a  fair-weather  sign  indica 
tive  of  squalls  to  come;  it  is  sometimes  only  ner 
vousness,  and  nerves,  in  education  .  .  .  There  must 
be  none! 

Often,  when  I  visited  these  tranquil  school 
rooms,  a  regret  arose  in  me  that  I  was  not  a  child 
again,  I  should  have  been  made  so  happy  by  the 


WITH    THE    FRIENDS  117 

life  I  saw  there,  a  perfectly  normal  and  natural 
life,  and  penetrated  in  the  most  unostentatious  way 
with  the  perfume  of  spirituality,  recalling  forest 
trails  rather  than  the  incense  of  altars.  For  these 
good  people  possess  the  modesty  of  religion;  re 
ligion  is  ever  present  with  them,  but  never  paraded ; 
their  language  is  as  natural  and  free  from  cant  as 
possible.  They  love  children,  in  whom  the  future 
lies,  and  know  how  to  treat  them,  without  indulging 
them  either  too  much  or  too  little. 

They  also  love  the  dead,  with  whom  lies  remem 
brance,  and  know  how  to  honour  them  without 
trespassing  upon  the  rights  of  the  living.  While 
the  boys  and  girls  were  at  their  games  on  the  cam 
pus  of  the  "  Friends'  Select  School,"  in  Philadel 
phia,  I  was  walking  on  adjoining  ground,  along  an 
old  sunny  wall  with  clumps  of  bushes  growing 
against  it,  in  which  little  birds  sat  preening  their 
feathers.  Up  on  top  of  the  city  hall  tower,  the 
colossal  statue  of  Penn  seemed  to  stand  guard  over 
the  parks,  the  two  rivers  and  the  harbour  alive  with 
its  shipping.  The  activity  of  the  great  city  was 
throbbing  all  about  us  in  its  tremendous  arteries. 
Suddenly  my  foot  struck  a  stone,  flat  in  the  short 
grass;  upon  it  was  the  name  of  one  of  the  great 


118     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

American  Friends,  and  looking  about  me  more 
attentively,  I  discovered  other  stones,  and  other 
names:  I  was  in  an  old  cemetery.  Here,  then,  they 
lay,  those  valiant  pioneers,  who  had  helped  in  the 
building  of  America;  here  they  were  sleeping, 
those  men  of  peace,  who  had  obstinately  suffered 
persecution  to  gain  it.  I  meditated  on  their  spirit 
of  sacrifice,  their  tranquil  faith,  that  almost  super 
human  heroism  which  characterises  certain  episodes 
in  their  history,  and  their  invincible  patience, 
which  made  their  resistance  to  any  form  of  tyranny 
like  the  resistance  of  the  irreducible  pebble.  The 
joyous  shouts  of  the  children  vibrated  in  my  ears, 
and  the  dust  of  the  dead  trembled  under  my  feet. 
The  thrill  of  a  beautiful  and  abundant  pulse  of  life 
shot  through  me,  wherein  the  fresh  strength  of  life's 
morning  and  the  solidarity  of  the  past  were  min 
gled,  and  above  the  graves  of  the  fathers  I  prayed 
for  their  children  with  the  candid  eyes  and  glow 
ing  cheeks;  while  on  the  wings  of  the  breeze  and 
the  sun-rays,  there  came  a  mysterious  salutation 
from  the  invisible  Father,  in  Whom  all  the  gener 
ations  of  men  are  one. 


XXI 

THE    GUEST    OF    ISRAEL 

DURING  the  last  week  of  my  stay  in  New 
York,   I   received  a  note  from  the   Rev. 
Dr.  Blum,  a  rabbi  of  Alsatian  descent, 
asking   for    an    interview.   We  met   the  next   day, 
which  was  Friday. 

"  You  have  many  friends  among  the  Jews,"  said 
Dr.  Blum,  "  and  numbers  of  those  who  have  read 
your  books  would  be  very  glad  to  encounter  you; 
would  you  go  to  the  synagogue  to  meet  them  ?  " 

When  I  replied  that  nothing  could  give  me 
greater  pleasure,  he  hastened  away  to  tell  Dr.  Sil- 
verman,  the  distinguished  rabbi  of  Temple  Emanu- 
El,  and  later  the  two  rabbis  came  in  company,  to 
invite  me  to  take  part  in  the  next  day's  services. 

The  appointment  was  made,  and  I  experienced 
a  great  spiritual  joy  in  the  thought  of  worshipping 
with  the  descendants  of  the  Prophets,  with  sons  of 
the  race  to  which  the  world  owes  Jesus  Christ  and 
all  the  greatest  treasures  of  its  religious  patrimony. 

I  thought  of  my  dear  Jewish  friends  in  Paris,  and 
119 


120     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

of  one  home  in  particular,  that  is  specially  near  to 
my  heart,  where  for  years,  in  fulfilment  of  the  wish 
of  an  old  grandmother,  no  longer  with  us,  I  have 
been  fraternally  associated  in  the  family  celebration 
of  the  feast  of  the  Passover.  Such  an  invitation 
extended  to  an  infidel  (in  the  orthodox  phraseology) 
was  certainly  not  conformable  to  any  official  rule, 
but  it  was  given  with  such  good  intention,  and  ac 
cepted  so  heartily,  that  a  bit  of  the  millennium 
always  seemed  to  me  to  be  germinating  in  the  hos 
pitality  shown  around  that  paschal  table,  over 
shadowed  by  its  ancient  and  venerable  traditions. 
I  have  never  been  able  to  forget  that  Jesus  insti 
tuted  the  Supper  of  the  New  and  Universal  Cov 
enant,  at  the  table  where  he  had  just  partaken  of 
the  feast  of  the  Old. 

When  I  was  about  to  leave  Paris,  these  Jewish 
friends  said  to  me,  "  See  what  the  American  Jews 
are  doing,  in  religious,  moral,  social  and  educational 
affairs,  and  tell  us  when  you  come  back."  Before 
this  hospitality  in  New  York,  I  had  heard,  at  the 
Universal  Peace  Congress  in  Boston,  addresses  by 
such  rabbis  as  the  Rev.  Dr.  Henry  Berkowitz,  who 
gave  expression  to  as  lofty  sentiments  as  the  mem 
orable  days  of  the  Congress  brought  forth;  and  at 


THE   GUEST   OF    ISRAEL         121 

Pittsburg  I  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Rabbi 
Leonard  Levy,  the  young  editor  of  the  Jewish 
Criterion,  an  organ  of  Reform  Judaism.  This  was 
on  the  occasion  of  a  convention  of  Pennsylvania 
Sunday-schools,  and  the  rabbi,  having  a  Sunday- 
school  of  his  own,  was  interested  in  the  questions 
discussed.  Not  only  was  he  seated  on  the  plat 
form  with  the  clergy  and  the  organisers  of  the 
meetings,  but  when  an  appeal  was  made  for  funds 
for  certain  Protestant  schools,  he  instantly  made  a 
generous  contribution.  That  evening,  in  his  syn 
agogue,  Rodoph  Sholom,  we  held  a  "  peace  meet 
ing,"  at  which  representatives  of  the  divers  Prot 
estant  sects  and  of  Catholicism  sat  side  by  side; 
while  at  Chicago,  a  few  days  later,  there  was  a  like 
reunion  at  Temple  Sinai,  the  vast  synagogue  of 
Rabbi  Hirsch.  And  it  was  the  sentiment  of  all  of 
us,  that  if  ever  peace  is  to  dwell  in  this  world,  the 
different  religions  must  renounce  their  old  quar 
rels  and  abolish  the  scandal  of  their  anti-fraternal 
exclusions,  to  give  to  the  nations  the  example  of 
an  entente  cordiale,  and  of  their  sincere  conversion 
to  a  superior  worship,  wherein  Unity  shall  have 
been  created  out  of  diversity. 

All  these  things  came  to  my  mind  as  I  waited 


MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

for  the  hour  to  go  to  Temple  Emanu-El,  the  splen 
did  meeting-place  of  a  vast  congregation  of  Reform 
Jews.  Arrived  at  the  Temple,  I  was  met  by  a  com 
mittee  of  the  Emanu-El  Brotherhood,  including  its 
octogenarian  president,  Mr.  Seligman.  The  service 
began  with  chanting  and  a  liturgy,  followed  by  the 
reading  of  the  Torah.  I  noticed  that  no  one  kept 
on  his  hat,  and  that  the  greater  part  of  the  chants 
and  prayers  were  in  the  vernacular.  Dr.  Silverman 
preached  on  "  the  simple  life  "  and  simplicity  of 
creed,  comparing  too  complicated  dogma  to  the  ar 
mour  of  Saul,  in  which  the  young  David  stifled  and 
which  he  put  off,  crying,  "  I  cannot  go  with  these." 
Then,  cutting  short  his  discourse,  he  presented  me 
to  his  congregation,  as  their  guest,  begging  me, 
with  the  utmost  courtesy,  to  take  his  place  and 
speak  to  them. 

Such  a  cordial  reception  was  given  my  words,  and 
such  brotherliness  and  sympathy  were  shown  me 
afterward,  that  it  was  not  possible  to  refuse  a 
second  invitation,  made  further  in  advance,  in  or 
der  that  more  members  of  the  Emanu-El  Brother 
hood  might  come  together.  But,  alas !  I  had  not  an 
other  free  evening,  and  the  best  we  could  do  was 
to  appoint  a  meeting  for  ten  o'clock  on  the  last 


THE    GUEST   OF    ISRAEL          123 

nigLt  of  my  visit.  That  night  I  was  to  speak  before 
the  French  branch  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association.  When  after  this  address  I  reached  the 
synagogue,  in  company  with  Dr.  Silverman  and 
Dr.  Blum,  we  found  it  crowded  with  an  audience 
of  twenty-five  hundred  people.  They  had  passed  an 
hour  in  listening  to  music  and  hearing  a  report  of 
their  Brotherhood.* 

At  the  first  glance,  I  felt  that  I  had  the  absolute 
sympathy  of  my  auditors;  the  soul  of  hospitality 
that  characterised  the  old  Israelites  was  beaming 
in  these  faces,  and  at  the  thought  of  all  that  this 
people  had  done  and  suffered,  an  intense  emotion 
swept  over  me;  the  tremendous  antiquity  of  their 
traditions  seized  upon  my  imagination,  and  I  in 
clined  in  spirit  before  more  than  three  thousand 
years  of  history  crowned  on  the  far  horizon  by 
the  giant  peaks  of  prophetism. 

I  chose  two  texts  from  the  prophet  Malachi,  and 

*  Among  the  people  whom  I  met  that  evening,  was  the 
widow  of  Simon  Borg,  who  has  since  been  taken  from 
the  midst  of  her  seven  devoted  children.  She  was  one 
of  the  chosen,  her  whole  life  consecrated  to  doing  good. 
In  the  conversation  I  had  with  her,  I  found  her  so  full  of 
courage  to  bear  the  ills  of  life,  and  of  such  firm  faith  united 
with  so  deep  a  comprehension  of  the  beliefs  of  others,  that 
I  shall  ever  keep  a  most  pleasing  remembrance  of  her. 


124     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

out  of  respect  for  the  breadth  of  thought  that  had 
inspired  the  offer  of  such  religious  hospitality  as 
I  was  enjoying,  I  spoke  these  texts  in  Hebrew. 
The  first  was :  "  Have  we  not  all  one  father  ?  hath 
not  one  God  created  us  ?  "  and  the  second :  "  And 
he  shall  turn  the  heart  of  the  fathers  to  the  chil 
dren,  and  the  heart  of  the  children  to  their  fathers." 
The  words  of  this  second  text  are  the  last  in  the 
Old  Testament,  and  they  might  serve  as  a  formula 
for  normal  human  life,  in  all  its  domains.  "  The 
fathers  " — that  means  tradition;  "  the  children  " — 
they  are  the  new  times:  it  would  not  be  possible  to 
have  either  a  continuity  of  history  or  a  real  stability 
in  the  national,  social  or  religious  structure,  with 
out  the  harmonious  concurrence  of  these  two  forces 
of  past  and  future;  the  two  watchwords  of  that 
superior  mentality  in  which  all  the  beneficent  forces 
are  wedded,  are  remember  and  onward.  I  attempted 
to  draw  from  these  great  sayings  of  Malachi  some 
of  the  truths  they  contain,  and  to  call  attention  to 
their  happy  exposition  of  that  real  independence 
which  is  the  inspiration  of  all  fruitful  liberty;  and 
I  concluded  somewhat  as  follows : — "  Our  fathers, 
the  fathers  of  all  western  religion,  are  you,  are  your 
prophets,  pioneers  in  so  extraordinary  a  progress, 


THE    GUEST   OF   ISRAEL         125 

that  in  spite  of  their  distance  from  us  in  the 
venerable  past,,  even  to-day  they  still  point  out 
to  us  the  ways  of  the  future.  The  rest  of  us  are 
the  children ;  and  if  ever  the  hearts  of  the  children 
were  to  turn  from  the  fathers,  it  would  be  an  un 
grateful  thing,  leading  to  sure  disaster.  Thus  who 
ever  knows  what  the  religious  world  owes  you, 
pronounces  the  name  of  Israel  with  veneration. 

"  But  if  you  are  the  fathers,  and  if  all  honour 
and  filial  respect  is  due  you  from  us,  ought  you  not 
also  to  recognise  your  children?  The  old  race  of 
Isaiah,  of  him  whose  prophetic  words  marked  out 
men's  destinies  in  the  passage  so  full  of  hope  and 
of  the  future: — and  there  shall  come  forth  a  shoot 
out  of  the  stock  of  Jesse — this  old  race  is  one  with 
the  new  family,  and  never  have  I  felt  the  truth  of 
it  more  deeply  than  this  evening.  We  all  need  to 
meditate  upon  the  broad  and  magnanimous  spirit 
that  breathes  in  this  fine  text,  in  order  to  bring 
ourselves  into  unison  with  its  intent.  Thus  shall  we 
join  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New  in  fruitful 
collaboration.  Each  calls  for  the  other,  they  inter 
pret  one  another,  and  they  are  never  so  great  as 
when  bound  between  the  same  covers." 

It  is  always  well  to  cultivate  hope  and  ideality, 


126     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

even  in  the  atmosphere  of  a  materialism  that  re 
gards  you  as  a  Utopian.  Some  years  earlier,  in  my 
book  "  The  Better  Way/'  I  had  expressed  the  hope 
that  the  different  religious  families,  while  each  still 
fostered  its  own  peculiar  beliefs,  might  some  day 
meet  on  the  ground  of  a  serene  and  benevolent  hos 
pitality,  and  that  people  might  be  invited  from 
church  to  church,  as  they  are  from  family  to  fam 
ily.  How  many  smiles  that  naive  page  evoked 
from  the  sages  of  this  world !  That  night  at  Temple 
Emanu-El,  I  perceived  that  we  were  not  so  far 
as  we  might  be  from  these  spiritual  agapse  among 
men  of  different  religions,  and  I  promised  myself 
that  I  would  neglect  no  opportunity  for  making 
possible  these  love-feasts  of  so  great  mutual  benefit. 
It  was  not  far  from  midnight  when  we  left  this 
house  of  prayer,  where  hearts  had  come  so  near 
one  another;  but  it  was  not  too  late  for  one  more 
cordial  gathering;  my  friends  of  the  Synagogue 
took  me  to  one  of  their  clubs  for  a  supper.  Around 
the  table  were  seated  prominent  members  of  the 
Synagogue — Mr.  Seligman,  the  banker;  Dr.  Singer 
and  several  of  his  collaborators  on  the  Jewish  En 
cyclopedia,  which  will  be  one  of  the  most  interest 
ing  historical  monuments  of  our  time;  Mr.  Lewi- 


THE    GUEST   OF    ISRAEL         127 

sohn,  known  for  his  gifts  to  universities  and  his 
works  of  general  philanthropy,  and  a  number  of 
college  professors  and  school  teachers.  There  were 
speeches,  the  most  interesting  to  me  being  that  of 
a  teacher  on  the  East  Side,  among  the  dense  popu 
lation  that  is  being  daily  augmented  by  Jewish  fam 
ilies  who  have  been  driven  out  of  Europe.  These 
people  create  a  tremendous  problem  for  the  Amer 
ican  Jews,  and  from  the  response  Mr.  Lewisohn 
made  to  this  speech,  I  saw  that  the  intentions  of 
these  men  are  on  a  level  with  the  most  exacting 
duties.  They  feel  responsible  for  these  thousands, 
these  myriads  of  their  unfortunate  brothers  thrust 
out  from  their  native  lands,  and  seek  not  only  to 
keep  them  from  starvation  during  the  first  months 
of  their  coming,  but  also  to  sustain  them  morally 
and  materially  until  a  new  future  opens  to  them. 
A  few  days  before,  I  had  visited  the  Montefiore 
Home,  a  great  hospital  on  the  banks  of  the  Hud 
son,  for  incurables  of  all  ages.  Here  the  poor  un 
fortunates  are  received  without  distinction  of  race 
or  creed,  just  as  patients  are  received  at  Mount 
Sinai  Hospital,  an  establishment  with  the  best 
modern  equipment.  I  went  away  from  the  supper, 
that  early  morning,  with  the  impression,  confirmed 


128     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

by  all  my  other  experiences  among  the  American 
Jews,  of  an  active  and  highly  intelligent  commu 
nity,  open  to  all  lofty  ideas,  that  has  been  in 
fluenced  in  the  happiest  way  by  the  vitalising  air 
of  the  New  World. 


XXII 

OUR    BLACK    BROTHERS 

I    HAD   awaited  with  a  certain  impatience  an 
opportunity  to  meet  representatives   of  the 
negro  race,  and  one  of  the  first  of  them  with 
whom  I  came  into  personal  contact,  was  a  cabman 
who  drove  me  about  Washington,  and  who  informed 
me  that  he  had  read  "  The  Simple  Life."  His  words 
were  accompanied  by  such  expansive  smiles,  that  his 
face,  illumined  by  the  flash  of  white  teeth,  remains 
fresh  in  my  memory. 

In  families,  in  restaurants,  on  trains,  wherever 
negroes  were  employed,  they  appeared  to  me  to 
work  cheerfully  and  acquit  themselves  with  credit. 
There  is  specially  good  opportunity  to  observe  them 
while  they  polish  your  shoes.  America  abandons  to 
every  man  the  care  of  his  own  footgear;  as  a  rule, 
his  shoes  are  not  cleaned  for  him,  either  in  private 
families  or  hotels,*  but  as  he  takes  them  off  at 
*  I  should,  however,  reproach  myself  if  I  did  not  disclose 
the  fact,  that  in  a  number  of  houses  we  surprised  our  friends 
themselves  occupied  in  blacking  our  shoes,  the  servants  not 
being  accustomed  to  do  it. 

129 


130     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

night,  so  he  puts  them  on  in  the  morning,  and  at 
the  first  opportunity  he  gives  himself  into  the  hands 
of  one  of  those  efficient  bootblacks,  whose  street 
cry  is  "  Shine !  shine !  "  The  bootblack  offers  him 
a  seat,  a  commodious  arm-chair,  sometimes  of  regal 
splendour,  suggestive  of  the  sort  of  throne  the  boot 
blacks  of  the  good  city  of  Lyons  have  their  cus 
tomers  mount,  and  very  far  removed  in  dignity  from 
the  poor  substitute  in  the  shape  of  a  box,  offered 
by  our  Paris  porters.  If  you  wish  greater  privacy 
than  the  street  affords,  you  are  invited  into  some 
basement,  or  oftener  into  a  hotel  lobby.  During  the 
operation  of  polishing,  the  customer,  pressed  for 
time,  generally  reads  his  paper,  or  occupies  himself 
in  some  other  way;  but  I  took  care  to  avoid  that. 
A  man  who  is  having  a  service  rendered  him,  owes 
some  attention  to  the  brother  who  for  the  moment 
is  giving  it;  and  such  a  service  as  it  is  in  this  case! 
Do  not  suppose  that  a  blacking-box  and  brush 
constitute  the  entire  outfit.  In  the  first  place,  the 
black  man  as  he  bends  over  your  shoes,  has  not  the 
air  of  going  to  work  haphazard;  he  seems  to  be 
considering  you  as  a  subject  for  his  art  and  good 
intentions.  First  comes  a  careful  cleaning,  with  a 
brush  that  would  sooner  take  away  the  surface  of 


OUR    BLACK    BROTHERS          131 

the  leather  than  leave  a  bit  of  mud  behind;  then  a 
scientific  application  of  blacking,  and  a  swift  rub 
bing  off  with  softer  brushes;  and  after  that  the 
varnishing  and  polishing  with  strips  of  flannel  of 
gradually  diminishing  harshness.  The  whole  costs 
ten  cents,  fifty  centimes.  Your  black  brother  dis 
misses  you  with  a  broad  smile,  and  you  go  away  with 
two  glittering  mirrors  on  your  feet.  A  good  polish 
lasts  a  week — if  it  doesn't  rain. 

In  Pullman  cars,  as  the  train  nears  your  station, 
the  negro  porter  takes  possession  of  your  hat,  your 
overcoat,  and  even  your  umbrella,  and  brushes  them 
with  a  whisk-broom  under  whose  strokes  not  a  par 
ticle  of  dust  is  suffered  to  remain;  then  he  ap 
proaches  you,  asks  you  to  rise,  and  with  good- 
natured  vehemence  brushes  your  clothing  from 
collar  to  shoes.  At  night,  while  you  are  asleep  in 
your  berth,  the  porter  is  on  guard,  and  he  wakens 
you  in  the  morning  by  lightly  tapping  you  on  the 
shoulder. 

If  the  traveller  does  not  address  the  porter,  the 
porter  remains  mute,  but  if  you  open  conversation, 
he  responds  heartily,  and  after  having  fully  replied 
to  your  questions,  he  puts  some  to  you  in  return — 
an  exchange  of  civilities. 


122     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

I  studied  the  negro  faces  carefully,  and  along 
with  certain  thick-lipped  types,  characterised  for 
the  most  part  by  animality,  which  easily  find  a 
place  beside  our  brutal  white  types,  I  encountered 
many  open  faces,  bearing  all  the  marks  of  intelli 
gence  and  true  spirituality.  But  most  frequently  of 
all,  I  encountered  an  expression  that  I  have  never 
observed  in  the  same  degree  on  the  face  of  any 
white  man, — an  expression  of  fidelity,  of  devotion, 
to  which  their  colour  gives  a  special  cachet,  and 
which  made  an  extraordinary  impression  upon  my 
mind. 

***** 

One  morning,  in  New  York,  while  I  was  having 
a  friendly  chat  with  Maurice,  a  negro  of  magnificent 
proportions,  who  came  regularly  in  the  early  morn 
ing  to  greet  me  with  a  smile  and  ask  if  I  had  need 
of  anything,  I  learned,  not  without  surprise,  that 
we  were  colleagues.  Maurice  was  a  preacher,  the 
head  of  a  congregation,  founder  of  a  theological 
school,  and,  meanwhile,  valet  de  chambre;  his  con 
gregation  being  too  poor  to  assure  his  material  life, 
he  gained  his  subsistence  as  a  servant. 

The  combination  of  the  two  functions  was  sure 
to  have  its  disadvantages — the  right  to  speak  au- 


OUR    BLACK    BROTHERS          133 

thoritatively  united  to  the  position  of  a  subordinate ; 
the  leisure  necessary  to  study,  occupied  with  house 
hold  affairs;  thought  itself,  following  its  course 
within,  interrupted  at  every  moment  by  an  order 
or  a  telephone  call !  But  these  disadvantages,  which 
certainly  are  not  slight,  give  one  a  glimpse  of  ad 
vantages  whose  weight  might  make  the  scales  turn 
in  their  favour.  After  all,  the  preacher  should  seek 
the  matter  for  his  teaching  in  life  even  more  than 
in  books ;  it  is  less  to  his  disadvantage  to  lack  erudi 
tion  than  to  lack  experience.  Now  experience  is 
never  to  be  had  gratuitously;  it  costs  dear,  when 
ever  it  is  really  worth  anything,  and  the  most  of 
us  are  not  at  all  disposed  to  pay  its  price.  Our  only 
"  trying  "  experiences,  therefore,  are  those  which, 
so  to  put  it,  are  thrust  upon  us.  The  obstacles  and 
hardships  of  existence  and  its  inevitable  sufferings, 
in  costing  us  pain,  increase  our  faculty  for  aiding 
others  to  live.  But  there  are  experiences  of  a  some 
what  special  nature,  which  are  almost  never  under 
gone  save  by  proxy.  Most  of  our  preachers  come 
from  the  middle  classes ;  we  should  find  it  contrary 
to  their  dignity  were  it  otherwise;  if  they  come 
from  the  people,  if  their  fathers  were  peasants, 
labourers  or  servants,  they  are  likely  to  rise  to  the 


134     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

middle-class  ranks.  Now  in  all  epochs,  particularly 
our  own,  one  of  the  great  questions  which  we  have 
to  carry  into  the  pulpit,  is  the  social  question,  and 
whether  we  regard  it  from  above,  the  side  of  em 
ployers,  or  from  below,  the  side  of  workingrnen  and 
servants,  we  see  it  on  one  side  only,  and  so  see  it 
badly.  To  comprehend  it  well,  it  is  necessary  to  put 
ourselves  at  once  in  the  place  of  those  on  both  sides. 
But  to  put  yourself  in  the  place  of  another  is  one 
of  those  feats  that  a  man  may  indeed  attempt,  or 
imagine  himself  to  have  successfully  accomplished, 
but  which  belongs  in  truth  to  the  domain  of  the  im 
possible.  The  best  intention  encounters  insurmount 
able  obstacles  in  the  undertaking.  If  another's  place 
does  not  become  in  reality  your  own,  you  cannot 
feel  what  he  feels.  I  am  dealing  here  with  the  case 
of  an  upright  man,  seeking  only  what  is  just  and 
right,  as  he  should  be  who  attempts  to  preach  to 
others;  moreover,  a  man  who  loves  his  fellow-men 
as  men,  and  not  by  virtue  of  their  particular  class. 
This  man  is  a  domestic  all  day  long,  is  bound  to 
obey,  and  does  it.  Endowed  with  understanding,  he 
observes  the  life  of  the  home,  and  judges  it  at  once 
with  friendliness  and  penetration,  but  his  role  im 
poses  above  all  else  respect  and  silence.  At  night  he 


OUR    BLACK    BROTHERS          135 

is  free,  he  is  even  a  master  himself,  and  clothed 
with  a  great  authority.  He  speaks  in  the  name  of 
God  and  of  humanity,  in  the  name  of  the  wisdom 
compacted  of  tradition  and  the  living  experience 
of  to-day.  The  right  to  be  heard  and  the  boundless 
field  of  thought  are  his;  if  this  man  has  a  soul, 
he  is  better  armed  than  any  other  man  to  say  prac 
tical  words  good  to  be  pondered  upon  and  assim 
ilated.  He  deals  with  realities;  he  makes  it  felt 
that  he  knows  both  the  face  and  the  reverse  of 
questions,  because  he  has  lived  and  does  live  both 
sides  of  them  daily.  And  we  cannot  determine  in 
which  form  of  his  activity  he  is  most  interesting, 
whether  as  preacher  valet  de  chambre,  or  valet  de 
chambre  preacher.  Surely  each  of  these  men  has 
great  need  of  the  other.  I  am  convinced  that  the 
world  would  advance  more  rapidly  if  great  ques 
tions  were  not  generally  debated  as  though  across 
a  chasm,  between  men  who  are  informed  on  only 
one  side  of  them.  Social  life  would  have  everything 
to  gain  by  the  creation  of  human  ties  in  which  lie 
cordial  and  deep  understanding,  and  a  just  judg 
ment  of  the  situation  and  of  the  rights  and  the 
duties  of  the  two  parties  in  question.  We  are  ordi 
narily  divided  into  two  social  parties,  whose  in- 


136     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

terests  seem  opposed  to  each,  other,  and  between 
whom  rise  intermediaries  that  oftener  than  not  are 
ignorant  about  one  of  them,  if  not  simply  agitators 
exploiting  two  antagonistic  forces  for  their  own 
profit.  I  would  we  might  have  men  who  love  and 
appreciate  both  sides,  and  understand  that  the  two 
should  be  at  bottom  one.  A  contradictory  situation 
like  that  of  the  black  colleague  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  become  acquainted  with,  however  pain 
ful  and  pathetic,  may  therefore  be  transformed 
into  a  source  of  human  progress,  upon  condition 
that  he  who  submits  to  it,  is  able  to  rise  above  his 
temporary  roles,  and  under  the  livery  of  a  domes 
tic  servant,  as  well  as  in  the  pulpit,  remains  first 
of  all  things  a  man. 

*  *  *  -x-  * 

The  opportunity  of  speaking  to  negro  audiences, 
which  I  looked  upon  as  a  privilege,  was  twice  ac 
corded  me  in  Philadelphia.  They  were  audiences 
in  which  all  ages  mingled,  the  galleries  being 
crowded  with  children.  The  hymns  were  sung  with 
marvellous  spirit,  for  all  negroes  adore  music,  and 
many  of  them  attain  to  a  rare  musical  development. 
As  I  sat  on  the  platform,  in  company  with  several 
negro  pastors  and  Mr.  Wanamaker,  I  thought  I 


OUR    BLACK    BROTHERS          137 

must  be  dreaming.  From  the  little  woolly  heads, 
singing  away  with  such  abandon,  my  glance  turned 
toward  the  grown-up  auditors.  The  hymn  swelled 
richly,  full  of  feeling;  the  atmosphere  was  one  of 
kindness  and  welcome.  Rarely  have  I  felt  happier 
in  lending  my  voice  to  those  old  truths  the  Gospel 
has  moulded  into  the  ineffaceable  likeness  of  uni 
versal  humanity  than  here ;  I  saw  them  vested  with 
a  new  grandeur,  when  they  served  instantly  as  a 
perfect  bond  with  men  of  a  race  hitherto  strange 
to  me;  and  in  the  first  moment,  that  happy  spark 
which  sets  in  motion  the  currents  of  the  higher  life 
at  the  contact  of  souls,  came  spontaneously  into 
being.  My  discourse  finished,  I  sat  down,  and  all 
eyes  turned  toward  Mr.  Wanamaker.  "  Now  that 
you  are  among  us,"  the  pastor  of  the  church  said 
to  him,  "  permit  us  to  lay  before  you  certain  desid 
erata."  And  he  spoke  of  the  services  which,  in  the 
capacity  of  a  merchant  employing  large  numbers  of 
people,  Mr.  Wanamaker  might  render  his  parish 
ioners.  During  a  part  of  this  discourse,  the  pain 
ful  sentiments  that  fill  the  hearts  of  negroes  in  face 
of  some  of  the  stubborn  antagonism  and  race  preju 
dice  they  have  to  meet,  made  themselves  felt. 
Mr.  Wanamaker  accepted  with  visible  satisfac- 


138     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

tion  this  excellent  opportunity  for  expressing  his 
sympathy  with  our  black  brothers.  "  When  you 
have  to  do  with  me,  or  with  any  of  the  very  numer 
ous  men  in  this  country  who  think  and  feel  toward 
you  as  I  do,  say  to  yourselves  this :  '  There  is  no 
question  here  of  race,  of  face,  or  of  place,  but 
purely  a  question  of  grace,  that  is  to  say  of  aptitude 
and  capacity.'  You  will  always  be  welcome  to  a 
position,  but  to  have  it  is  not  all;  you  must  fill  it. 
If,  upon  trial,  we  see  that  you  have  asked  for  a 
place  in  which  you  cannot  successfully  hold  your 
own,  we  are  obliged  to  discharge  you,  just  as  we 
should  do  in  the  case  of  a  white  man.  Were  this 
to  happen,  some  of  you  would  say  that  the  colour 
of  your  face  had  lost  you  the  position,  but  you 
would  be  wrong.  You  had  too  great  ambition;  hav 
ing  mounted  too  high,  it  would  be  necessary  to  step 
down.  Believe  me,  we  are  your  friends,  and  if  an 
injustice  should  be  done  one  of  you,  we  should  not 
stand  behind  any  one  answerable  to  us  or  within 
the  limits  of  our  influence,  who  had  dared  be  want 
ing  in  respect  or  fairness  toward  one  of  your 
number." 

Such  words  are  the  expression  of  the  most  pro 
found  feeling.   At   a   distance,  upon  the  faith   of 


OUR    BLACK    BROTHERS         139 

newspaper  articles  relating  facts  particularly  odi 
ous,  wherein  race  prejudice  is  displayed  in  its 
utter  ugliness,  we  come  to  believe  that  throughout 
the  whole  extent  of  the  United  States,  blacks  and 
whites  are  completely  separated,  not  mingling 
nor  even  meeting  in  public  places  like  theatres, 
churches,  railway  cars,  and  particularly  hotels. 
Great  numbers  of  Americans  not  only  do  not 
despise  or  hate  the  negro,  but  devote  themselves 
to  his  cause,  and  show  their  sympathy  with  him 
by  all  possible  means.  These  men  are  not  blind  to 
the  difficulties  of  what  is  called  the  negro  question ; 
but  they  have  a  principle  at  once  very  just  and 
very  j  udicious :  The  more  difficult  a  question  is,  the 
more  goodwill  we  must  concentrate  upon  its  solu 
tion.  I  esteem  myself  happy  to  have  encountered  a 
large  number  of  these  men,  among  whom  I  would 
mention  in  particular  Mr.  Robert  C.  Ogden,  of  New 
York.  Greatly  absorbed  by  colossal  business  affairs, 
he  is  none  the  less  constantly  occupied  with  social 
undertakings.  He  is  one  of  a  numerous  group  of 
Americans  who  do  their  country  very  great  honour. 
For  them  business  is  a  social  function,  and  if  it 
brings  them  wealth,  wealth  in  their  hands  is  a  lever 
for  good.  Mr.  Ogden  concerns  himself  much  with 


140     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

the  negroes,  especially  with  the  school  at  Hampton, 
an  institution  founded  and  formerly  directed  by 
General  Armstrong,  who  was  the  spiritual  father  of 
Booker  T.  Washington.  During  long  talks  at  his 
Broadway  office,,  Mr.  Ogden  gave  me  information 
about  educational  work  among  the  negroes,  putting 
into  my  hands  a  mass  of  documents  that  treat  of 
the  question.  Not  only  do  you  feel  that  in  his  capac 
ity  as  president  of  the  Hampton  Association,  he 
interests  himself  personally  in  its  immediate  affairs, 
but  it  is  plain  that  this  interest  touches  his  very 
heart.  When  he  speaks  of  the  negroes,  his  eyes 
moisten;  yet  he  is  a  man  of  strength,  above  the 
ordinary  in  stature,  and  possesses  great  self-com 
mand.  It  was  through  him  that  I  came  into  per 
sonal  contact  with  Booker  T.  Washington,  one  of 
the  men  I  was  most  anxious  to  meet,  whose  hand  I 
felt  myself  honoured  to  touch,  and  whose  school 
at  Tuskegee  I  promised  myself  surely  to  visit  later 
on.  For  this  time  I  had  to  be  content  with  giving 
a  lecture  for  the  benefit  of  Hampton  Institute. 

The  lecture  was  arranged  by  Mr.  Ogden,  and 
took  place  in  the  great  building  due,  like  so  many 
others,  to  the  generosity — known  the  world  round 
— of  Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie,  and  called  in  con- 


OUR    BLACK    BROTHERS         141 

sequence  "  Carnegie  Hall."  Eleven  Hampton  stu 
dents,  of  between  twenty  and  twenty-five  years, 
had  been  sent  from  Virginia  to  sing  before  and 
after  the  lecture.  As  we  were  presented  to  one  an 
other,  in  the  ante-room  where  we  had  some  minutes 
to  wait,  I  remarked  that  if  they  would  like  to  give 
me  a  great  pleasure,  they  might  sing  me  something 
immediately.  At  once  they  ranged  themselves  and 
began  to  sing  a  double  quartet.  The  floor  seemed 
to  vibrate,  and  the  magnificent  tone  of  their  voices 
to  penetrate  my  very  bones  and  course  through 
their  marrow ;  never  before  had  I  heard  such  ample 
bass  come  out  of  human  throats;  here  was  an  organ 
alive.  A  little  later  they  were  heard  in  the  great 
auditorium,  where  among  other  things  they  sang 
the  old  plantation  songs  of  slavery  days.  Through 
the  melancholy  music  of  these  songs,  the  human 
plaint  is  made  in  accents  so  full  of  sorrow,  that  the 
music  is  almost  forgotten  in  the  thought  of  those 
conditions  of  which  it  is  an  echo. 

I  am  not  equipped  to  enter  upon  a  discussion  of 
the  negro  problem;  it  is  a  mountain  that  weighs 
upon  the  conscience  of  the  United  States ;  but  what 
gives  me  reassurance  is  the  fact  that  no  problem, 
whatever  it  may  be,  arising  within  the  limits  of  a 


142     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

nation's  destinies,  is  beyond  the  powers  of  that  na 
tion  to  solve,  if  only  she  meet  it  with  good  sense 
and  clear  judgment,  on  the  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other  with  justice,  goodwill,  and  real  brotherly 
kindness.  Of  these  practical  attributes  and  these 
qualities  of  the  heart,  America  holds  in  reserve 
an  inexhaustible  supply,  and  no  obstacle,  no  prac 
tical  difficulty  and  no  fatality  of  race  can  prevail 
against  them. 

Meanwhile  I  deem  myself  happy  to  know  the 
man  whose  name  stands  to-day  for  the  hopes  as 
well  as  the  burdens  of  our  black  brothers,  the  man 
to  whom  from  all  quarters  of  America  and  of  the 
world  the  sympathies  we  have  for  them  go  out — 
Booker  T.  Washington.  I  am  going  to  tell  the  story 
of  an  occurrence  that  ought  to  be  recorded  among 
his  memoirs. 

On  the  evening  of  October  7,  1904,  we  had  as 
sembled  for  a  banquet,  the  last  act  of  the  Peace 
Congress  at  Boston,  where  six  hundred  guests  from 
all  the  states  of  the  Republic  and  all  the  countries 
of  the  world,  found  themselves  at  table  together. 
Those  of  us  who  were  to  speak  during  the  evening, 
were  seated  at  a  special  table,  where  the  orators 
could  readily  be  seen.  Booker  Washington  sat  three 


OUR    BLACK    BROTHERS         143 

seats  from  me.  When  he  rose  to  speak,  the  whole 
assembly,  as  if  moved  by  the  same  spontaneous  feel 
ing,  rose  too,  offering  him  a  unique  tribute,  a  tribute 
which,  by  reason  of  the  character  of  the  assembly, 
became  a  manifestation  from  the  whole  civilised  and 
pacific  Earth. 

Booker  Washington  is  a  man  of  medium  height, 
thick-set,  with  a  face  expressive  of  energy.  When 
he  rises  to  speak,  you  feel  that  he  bears  upon  his 
shoulders  the  burden  of  a  race.  His  words  are  pene 
trating,  full  of  warmth,  and  go  straight  to  the 
mark.  He  is  eloquent  with  that  superior  eloquence 
which  is  inspired  by  courage,  sincerity,  and  abso 
lute  devotion  to  a  cause.  Speaking  figures,  re 
strained  gestures,  persuasive  moderation — these  are 
characteristics  of  his  style.  You  feel  that  the  man 
is  a  voice  at  the  service  of  a  principle. 

After  certain  periods  into  which  he  has  put  all 
his  energy,  when  he  closes  his  mouth,  which  is  firm 
and  strong,  you  feel  how  positive,  how  unassailable, 
is  everything  that  he  has  said:  the  aspect  of  his 
ample  chin,  together  with  the  flash  of  his  eyes,  re 
calls  Luther's  splendid  saying:  "Here  I  stand;  I 
can  do  no  otherwise.  God  help  me.  Amen !  " 


XXIII 
INDUSTRY    AND    WEALTH 

IN  America  work  attains  to  an  extraordinary 
intensity.  People  have  done  a  great  deal  of 
it  almost  everywhere  during  the  last  century, 
and  more  than  ever  before  in  the  world's  history; 
the  construction  of  modern  railways  alone  has  up 
turned  so  much  ground,  produced  so  much  iron  and 
rolling-stock,  demanded  the  extraction  from  the 
earth  of  so  much  coal,  that  the  toil  of  the  ten  pre 
ceding  centuries  would  not  have  sufficed  for  the 
work  accomplished.  In  this  effort  of  civilisation, 
America  holds  the  record,  and  it  must  be  added  that 
nowhere  is  industry  more  honoured  than  in  that 
land.  Through  his  own  efforts  a  man  may  attain  to 
anything,  and  it  is  the  men  who  are  the  sons  of 
their  own  achievements  that  occupy  the  first  place 
in  the  general  esteem. 

Work  has  produced  great  riches  in  the  country, 
and  is  doing  it  every  day,  especially  in  the  new 
sections  that  are  being  rapidly  transformed  into 

populous  and  industrious  districts;   and  it  is  true 
144 


INDUSTRY    AND    WEALTH         145 

that  wealth  is  highly  esteemed,  and  money  is  the 
object  of  general  respect.  Let  us  even  say  that  the 
desire  of  acquiring  it  animates  the  greater  part  of 
the  people,  and  that  the  pride  of  riches  and  the 
splendour  of  the  possessors  of  fat  purses,  put  the 
unsuccessful  into  contempt.  That  is  one  of  the  dark 
sides  of  America,  an  anti-democratic  side,  and  not 
without  its  danger  for  the  future.  But  it  is  a  draw 
back  that  is  common  to  America  with  other  coun 
tries,  and  that,  moreover,  she  redeems  by  qualities 
which  some  nations  are  far  from  possessing.  In 
general,  what  faults  and  defects  the  country  has, 
none  knows  them  better  than  herself,  and  it  is  with 
rare  scrupulosity  and  perseverance  that  she  sets 
herself  to  overcome  them;  so  that  the  excesses  to 
which  the  money  power  may  lead  have  very 
weighty  counter-balancing  influences. 

To  begin  with,  following  an  excellent  custom 
that  numbers  of  people  who  attain  great  fortunes 
adopt,  generosity  strives  to  pay  the  debt  of  wealth, 
and  once  considered  by  its  possessors  as  an  instru 
ment  for  good,  money  may  be  used  in  so  many 
fashions,  that  every  just  man  is  obliged  to  respect 
it.  There  are  numerous  examples  of  men  who  ad 
minister  their  riches  as  a  sacred  trust,  an  accumu- 


14G     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

lation  from  the  general  labour,  and  deposited  in 
their  hands  that  it  may  serve  the  general  interest. 
To  them  possession  is  a  social  charge  which  involves 
their  responsibility  to  the  highest  degree,  and  to 
the  mind  of  those  who  know  her  in  the  person  of 
some  of  her  richest  citizens,  America  is  in  no  way 
described  when  she  is  called  the  country  of  King 
Dollar.  If  she  has  her  money-madmen  to  whom  the 
end  justifies  the  means,  her  selfish  hoarders,  her 
corruptionists  who  try  to  rule  by  buying  men's  con 
sciences  with  gold,  she  has  also  raised  to  the  height 
of  a  principle,  an  institution,  the  duty  of  using  one's 
wealth  well.  Many  of  her  citizens  brought  into 
great  prominence  by  reason  of  their  financial  stand 
ing,  live  personally  without  ostentation,  and  would 
not  feel  justified  in  making  lavish  expenditure  for 
themselves  or  their  children;  in  a  word,  they 
know  that  they  are  responsible,  to  God  and  to  man, 
for  the  use  of  their  wealth,  and  this  knowledge 
guards  them  from  the  fatal  temptation  which  comes 
to  those  without  this  controlling  force  from  the 
fact  that  they  may,  if  they  will,  satisfy  all  their 
desires. 

But  what  to  my  mind  further  counterbalances,  in 
this  generation,  the  demoralising  and  fatal  influence 


INDUSTRY    AND    WEALTH        147 

of  too  great  fortunes  accumulated  in  the  hands  of 
individuals,  is  the  fact  that  in  America  everybody 
works,  the  richest  men  often  harder  than  the  others, 
some  of  them  reducing  themselves  to  veritable  sla 
very,  as  a  matter  of  conscience,  so  that  I  would  by 
no  means  change  places  with  them.  But  it  is  for 
this  very  reason  that  they  deserve  to  be  respected 
and  admired.  There  is  a  very  noble  form  of  self- 
abnegation  in  this  fashion  of  being  a  slave  to  the 
duties  of  the  rich. 

The  simple  truth  is,  that  idleness  has  never  ac 
quired  the  rights  of  citizenship  in  America,  and 
assuredly  not  its  privileges.  In  older  societies,  a 
certain  aristocracy,  too  often  a  degenerate  one,  long 
generations  ago  lost  the  habit  of  working,  and  pub 
lic  opinion  is  so  greatly  influenced  by  the  existence 
of  this  highly  placed  and  brilliant  collection  of 
idlers,  that  it  has  come  to  accept  as  a  sign  of  nobility 
a  man's  not  being  obliged  to  work  in  order  to  live. 
The  farther  away  a  fortune  is  from  its  source, 
labour,  and  the  longer  passing  generations  have 
been  accustomed  to  finding  it  in  the  cradle,  the  more 
quarterings  of  nobility  does  it  seem  to  possess.  Thus 
it  comes  about  that  classes  which  are  really  para 
sitic,  consider  themselves  the  flower  of  society.  Un- 


148     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

der  protection  of  this  superstition,  the  idlers  have 
the  best  of  things;  and  whoever  is  able  to  assure 
himself  a  life  of  ease,  feeling  that  he  belongs,  in 
some  degree,  to  the  race  of  the  privileged,  develops 
a  state  of  mind  that  tends  to  look  upon  work  as  a 
servitude  and  a  lowering  of  his  dignity. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  ocean  this  swarm  of 
drones,  however  iridescent  their  wings,  are  not  ap 
preciated.  Of  this  they  are  aware,  and  so  they  keep 
out  of  sight.  The  habit  of  living  a  busy  life  is  so 
general,  that  the  man  who  does  nothing  must  expa 
triate  himself.  The  cities  of  their  own  land  do  not 
offer  enough  resources  to  those  who  cannot  content 
themselves  with  the  simple  distractions  in  which  a 
man  resting  from  toil  is  always  ready  to  take  de 
light,  but  must  be  amused  by  novel  and  curious 
methods.  They  are  condemned  to  ennui,  and  in  the 
end  ennui  drives  them  forth  from  their  native  soil, 
to  go  join  themselves,  in  some  cosmopolitan  centre 
of  the  old  world,  to  the  crowd  of  those  whom  idle 
ness  has  there  drawn  together. 

America  works,  honours  work,  and  knows  how  to 
organise  it.  As  a  general  thing  everybody  knows  his 
trade,  and  seeks  to  contribute  to  it  some  ingenious 
device  of  his  own  contriving.  Minds  are  less  the 


INDUSTRY    AND    WEALTH        149 

slaves  of  routine.  A  certain  point  of  honour  does  not 
permit  a  man  who  has  engaged  himself  to  do  a  piece 
of  work,  to  leave  it  before  it  is  finished.  From  top 
to  bottom  of  the  social  ladder,  men  feel  the  dignity 
of  their  calling,  and  expect  to  do  well  whatever 
they  do. 

Difficulties  and  unexpected  demands,  instead  of 
dismaying  them,  stimulate  manufacturers,  mer 
chants,  and  even  workingmen,  and  rather  than  ac 
knowledge  that  they  have  not  the  requirements  for 
carrying  out  an  order,  they  will  resort  to  tours  de 
force  and  expedients  that  betray  positive  genius. 
Here  is  a  typical  and  classic  example  of  this  dis 
position  to  bold  undertakings  and  labours  that 
must  be  accomplished  outside  of  ordinary  condi 
tions.  After  the  destruction  of  Chicago  by  the  great 
fire  that  left  only  a  trifling  portion  of  the  city 
standing,  as  soon  as  the  immediate  demoralisation 
had  passed,  there  was  an  extraordinary  display  of 
energy.  Drafts  were  made  upon  all  the  reserve 
funds  and  all  the  sources  of  activity,  in  order  to 
rebuild  the  city  as  quickly  and  as  substantially  as 
possible.  One  day  a  citizen  presented  himself  at 
the  office  of  a  building  contractor. 

"  I  need  a  house  of  such  and  such  a  character." 


150     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

"  Very  well,  when  do  you  want  it?  " 

The  date  was  named. 

"  We  have  fifteen  buildings  already  promised  for 
that  day,  but  all  of  them  are  to  be  finished  in  the 
morning ;  we  will  put  yours  down  for  the  afternoon. 
You  may  count  upon  having  it." 

America  has  her  industrial  schools,  but  the  best 
of  them  all  is  herself,  with  her  traditions  and  her 
practical  ardour  for  industry.  We  attain  to  nothing 
high  in  any  field  without  beginning  at  the  rudi 
ments,  and  in  order  to  direct  the  work  of  others,  we 
ourselves  ought  first  to  have  done  the  thing  they  are 
to  do.  The  life  story  of  multitudes  of  men  who  have 
arrived  at  the  direction  of  great  business  enter 
prises,  begins  with  some  simple  and  modest  task 
which  they  exerted  their  ingenuity  to  do  as  well  as 
possible.  In  America  to  have  begun  with  nothing 
is  the  greater  honour.  The  energetic  boy  who  thinks 
only  of  doing  his  work  well,  has  but  to  look  around 
him  in  order  to  see  men  that  are  living  examples  of 
what  he  may  expect  from  life  if  he  is  not  sparing 
of  his  pains,  and  this  is  a  great  incentive  for  every 
one  to  do  his  best.  Once  the  impression  gets  abroad 
that  a  young  man  is  a  worker,  all  doors  are  open  to 
him;  and  from  the  moment  he  shows  himself  to  be 
the  right  man  in  the  right  place,  there  is  no  hag- 


INDUSTRY    AND    WEALTH        151 

gling  over  his  pay.  As  a  general  thing,  labour  is 
well  remunerated.  That  a  man  should  give  his  toil 
for  nothing  is  not  even  tolerated,  and  the  Biblical 
saying,  "  The  labourer  is  worthy  of  his  hire,"  is 
understood  as  an  expression  of  dignity  and  not  of 
venality. 

I  am  only  a  novice  where  commerce  and  industry 
are  concerned,  but  I  have  the  curiosity  of  a  child 
who,  with  his  hands  behind  his  back,  stands  in  the 
street  watching  a  scissors-grinder  at  his  work.  How 
many  manufactories  have  I  not  visited  in  old  Eu 
rope;  how  many  trades  have  I  not  seen  in  opera 
tion  !  When  I  am  forced  to  contemplate  the  idleness 
of  some  men's  lives,  a  great  sadness  takes  posses 
sion  of  me,  with  such  deep  distress  does  the  empti 
ness  of  all  this  vanity  fill  me ;  but  I  never  tire  of 
watching  a  workman  at  his  task,  on  account  of  a 
certain  lofty  dignity,  a  certain  majesty,  that  sur 
rounds  him  in  my  eyes. 

American  workingmen  appeared  to  me  generally 
to  labour  under  good  hygienic  conditions;  the 
glimpses  I  had  into  printing-houses,  manufactories 
and  building  establishments,  have  left  me  with  an 
impression  of  cleanliness  and  dignity.  Great  num 
bers  of  ingenious  expedients,  relating  not  only  to 
mechanics,  but  to  office  and  shipping  business  and 


152     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

the  handling  of  raw  material,  show  that  alertness 
and  reflection  are  never  wanting.  To  simplify,  to 
make  labour  easier,  more  expeditious,  neater;  to 
render  a  tool  more  workable,  a  machine  more  pre 
cise — this  tendency  is  to  be  observed  on  every  hand ; 
and  as  you  make  the  countless  reflections  suggested 
by  such  intelligent  activity,  you  are  everywhere  re 
minded  of  the  story  of  Columbus  and  the  egg. 
Well,  well,  how  simple,  and  at  the  same  time,  how 
ingenious !  You  are  astonished  at  not  having  in 
vented  all  these  expedients  yourself.  For  instance, 
conductors  of  trolley  cars  have  at  their  disposal  a 
piece  of  mechanism  with  a  bell,  of  childish  sim 
plicity,  for  recording  fares  even  from  the  farther 
end  of  the  car,  which  saves  them  time,  steps  and 
mistakes.  The  moment  they  take  a  fare,  they  thus 
record  it  on  the  indicator;  in  Paris  it  is  neces 
sary  to  go  to  the  indicator  every  time  a  fare  is 
registered. 

Tradition  is  in  all  matters  so  important,  that  in 
this  new  country  every  trace  of  it  becomes  precious. 
In  business  houses  tradition  is  kept  alive  in  very 
real  fashion  by  portraits  of  their  founders  and 
the  successive  directors.  The  manager's  office  is  a 
sort  of  sanctuary,  and  impresses  you  with  the  great 


INDUSTRY    AND    WEALTH        153 

seriousness  of  business.  On  its  walls  are  the  fore 
fathers  of  the  house — not  a  long  line,  naturally, 
rarely  stretching  back  beyond  a  hundred  years ;  but 
all  these  merchants  and  manufacturers  and  invent 
ors  have  the  venerable  heads  of  patriarchs ;  and  the 
fine  faces  of  these  men,  faces  full  of  energy  and 
intelligence,  and  breathing  forth  honesty  and  piety, 
make  impressive  pages  of  human  history.  A  sight 
of  their  physiognomies  helps  one  to  comprehend 
why  the  influence  of  these  pioneers  is  yet  felt  in 
whatever  business  they  established.  Probity,  the  love 
of  work,  and  sentiments  of  justice  and  humanity, 
to  their  minds  made  a  part  of  commercial  and  in 
dustrial  life.  They  pursued  business,  as  the  knights 
of  old  pursued  war,  with  heart  and  soul,  and  their 
houses  were  established  with  a  capital  of  honour 
and  integrity  which  is  certainly  the  most  precious 
heritage  they  bequeathed  to  their  successors.  Long 
musing  before  these  portraits  of  the  oLier  genera 
tions,  instinctively  raises  the  question  as  to  the  ap 
pearance  the  portraits  of  the  present  generation  will 
make  beside  them.  With  all  our  heart  we  hope  that 
the  sons  may  resemble  the  fathers,  and  preserve  in 
the  new  forms  of  the  life  of  the  present,  the  spirit 
which  animated  the  business  life  of  the  past. 


XXIV 

RELAXATION 

I  IN  certain  moments  of  intense  labour,  when  all 
the  cords  of  activity  are  stretched  to  the  ut 
most,,  there  mingles  with  the  impression  of 
energy  and  power  arising  from  cyclopean  cities,  a 
sort  of  anguish,  something  like  the  feeling  that 
takes  possession  of  us  when  we  are  being  borne 
along  involuntarily  by  a  train  at  top  speed.  The 
idea  of  accidents  and  possible  catastrophes  presents 
itself  to  the  mind.  We  ask  ourselves  what  things 
are  coming  to;  if  such  a  pressure  can  be  kept  up, 
and  for  how  long  a  time,  and  what  will  become  of 
society  in  the  crucible  of  such  a  furnace.  Beyond 
a  certain  degree,  activity  becomes  abnormal  and  the 
human  organism  goes  wild. 

Good  engines  are  provided  with  alarm  signals  or 
safety-valves,  which  give  warning  of  approaching 
danger  or  announce  a  too  high  pressure.  Such  sig 
nals  also  exist  in  the  social  mechanism,  and  for 

those  who  have  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to  hear,  they 
154 


RELAXATION  155 

perform  their  functions  with  insistence.  Clear 
sighted  citizens  are  always  ready  to  detect  them, 
and  to  raise  the  cry  of  alarm.  Loss  of  mental  bal 
ance^  neurasthenia,  and  incapacity  for  work,  as  the 
result  of  rush  and  overexcitement ;  the  rage  for 
speed,  that  takes  possession  of  men  as  their  pace 
accelerates;  the  unrest  that  comes  from  perpetual 
agitation;  the  absorption  in  ardent  and  incessant 
competition;  the  dizziness  of  lofty  position  too 
rapidly  acquired — all  these  things  disturb  both 
mental  and  physical  sanity,  and  result  in  a  series 
of  disasters  or  irregularities.  You  feel  that  with 
out  the  presence  of  a  formidable  mass  of  ballast, 
the  ship  would  find  its  progress  put  in  jeopardy 
by  the  shocks  of  a  headlong  and  hazardous  navi 
gation.  Happily  this  ballast  exists. 

It  consists  first  in  an  enormous  fund  of  common 
sense,  always  adequate  for  adjusting  things;  and 
next,  in  great  sincerity  in  recognising  the  gaps  in 
the  social  structure,  and  in  filling  them  up. 

These  powers  of  the  first  order  are  strengthened 
by  a  certain  calm,  whose  salutary  rule  may  be  seen 
in  force  even  in  the  midst  of  the  most  violent  up 
heavals.  You  are  filled  with  admiration  when  you 
contemplate  the  tranquillity  of  soul  that  hosts  of 


156     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

men  preserve  in  the  thick  of  affairs  most  discon 
certing  from  their  number  and  variety. 

To  these  fundamental  qualities  is  to  be  added 
good  hygienics.  The  care  Americans  take  of  their 
physical  health  strengthens  them  marvellously  for 
the  struggle,  and  is  a  safeguard  to  their  mental  en 
ergy.  There  is  no  comparison  to  be  made  between 
them  and  us  in  the  matter.  Not  only  have  they  their 
outdoor  games,  sports  universally  entered  into  by 
all  ages  and  both  sexes,  but  they  have  also  that 
fountain  of  youth,  domestic  hydropathy,  and  here 
what  to  us  is  the  luxury  of  the  rich  is  to  them  the 
daily  portion  of  ever}Hbody.  America  bathes  freely, 
both  from  national  inclination  and  from  habit  that 
has  become  second  nature;  America. eats  well  in  the 
morning  and  not  too  heartily  at  night;  she  makes 
war  on  alcohol,  on  late  hours  and  close  air.  I  do 
not  mean  that  these  three  plagues,  which  are  fos 
tered  especially  in  monster  cities,  are  not  known  as 
well  as  among  us;  but  they  are  held  in  check  by 
a  persistent  struggle  and  the  decided  opposition 
of  the  healthy  elements  of  the  nation,  united  like 
a  rampart  in  the  face  of  these  enemies  of  the 
human  race. 

Added  to  all  this,  is  the  fact  that  America  has 


RELAXATION  157 

an  organised  system  of  rest,  and  retreats  for  rest 
that  are  inviolable.  First  there  is  the  everyday  rest, 
when  shops  and  offices  are  closed,  and  the  home  life 
with  its  comforts  is  in  the  ascendency.  Then  men 
brush  off  their  business  cares  like  dust;  there  is 
no  question  of  these  cares  in  the  home;  there  an 
other  world  opens  that  is  made  for  beguiling  them. 
For  hosts  of  Americans  who  keep  early  hours,  the 
evening  at  home,  with  its  tranquillity  and  affection, 
repairs  all  the  ravages  of  the  day. 

And  then,  they  have  their  Sabbath,  that  Sabbath 
which  we  begin  to  perceive  is  one  of  the  most  valu 
able  of  humanitarian  institutions,  and  which  should 
be  reinstated  wherever  public  carelessness  or  stupid 
ity  has  let  it  lapse  into  desuetude.  The  Sabbath 
is  the  day  of  freedom,  of  pious  recollection,  the  day 
of  the  ideal,  of  calm  reflection,  the  day  when  man 
remembers  that  he  is  not  a  beast  of  burden,  nor  his 
destiny  a  treadmill  round. 

On  that  day  quantities  of  Americans  are  united 
in  the  moral  and  religious  education  of  youth  in 
Sunday-schools.  The  churches  present  an  animated 
life  that  displays  itself  in  hymns  and  prayers,  as 
well  as  in  all  the  forms  of  fraternal  sociability. 
Men  covered  with  the  dust  of  the  week  are  re- 


158     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

freshed  and  reinvigorated  at  the  pure  springs  of 
holy  thought  and  of  a  hope  which  aids  them  to 
bear  their  toils  and  fatigues.  With  the  elements  of 
wisdom,  patience,  and  reflection  that  she  is  able  to 
draw  out  of  her  Sabbath,  that  Sabbath  which  she 
respects,  and  which  has  been  vitalised  for  her  and 
rendered  richer  and  more  truly  a  source  of  strength 
by  the  fresh  contribution  the  piety  each  passing 
generation  has  brought  to  it,  the  America  of  the 
inner  life,  the  America  that  puts  peace  of  soul  and 
contentment  of  mind  above  everything  else,  will 
triumph  over  her  lower  self,  that  is  consumed  by  the 
burning  fever  of  competition  and  by  a  thirst  for 
riches  which  every  new  acquisition  only  renders  the 
more  insatiable. 


XXV 

THE    PUBLIC    SCHOOLS 

WHAT  we  call  in  France  I'ecole  primaire 
is  called  in  America  a  public  or  gram 
mar  school,  and  one  of  the  first  differ 
ences  to  be  noted  between  the  two  is  that  in  America 
this  school  is  in  the  hands  of  women.  Men  teachers 
may  be  found  there,  it  is  true,  but  rarely,  and  usu 
ally  in  the  position  of  principal,  when  a  school  is 
large  enough  to  have  a  number  of  grades.  It  will 
be  asked  what  results  women  obtain  as  regards  dis 
cipline  and  respect  in  the  upper  classes,  where  boys 
as  old  as  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  are  to  be  found, 
and  experience  gives  a  very  satisfactory  answer. 
Under  feminine  direction  these  boys  on  the  border 
of  adolescence  not  only  maintain  an  attitude  of 
respect,  but  they  show  themselves  in  general  more 
tractable  and  docile  in  the  hands  of  a  woman  who 
knows  her  business  well,  than  under  the  direction 
of  a  man. 

The  public  schools  are  co-educational,  boys  and 
159 


160     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

girls  belonging  to  the  same  classes.  They  are  at 
tended  in  great  numbers,  by  pupils  of  all  social 
grades.  There  are  numerous  private  schools,,  many 
of  which  prepare  the  younger  children  for  the  pub 
lic  schools.  I  visited  one  of  them,  in  Minneapolis, 
that  has  left  a  characteristic  impression.  In  the  en 
trance  hall  we  were  attracted  by  a  panoply  of 
musical  instruments  suspended  on  the  wall.  We  had 
arrived  just  before  the  opening  of  school,  and  the 
children  were  playing  on  the  lawn  that  surrounded 
the  building.  At  the  stroke  of  a  bell,  a  score  of 
them  came  running,  took  down  the  instruments 
— principally  violins — and  began  to  play  a  lively 
march.  At  this  signal  the  other  children  trooped 
in,  and  distributed  themselves  among  the  various 
class  rooms  of  the  different  floors.  As  soon  as  all 
had  reached  their  places,  the  young  musicians  hung 
up  their  instruments  and  went  to  their  own  classes. 
The  session  is  generally  opened  by  the  reading 
of  some  passage,  often  chosen  from  sacred  writers, 
that  is  intended  to  concentrate  and  elevate  the  mind. 
Sometimes  the  schools  have  a  general  assembly 
room  where  all  the  pupils  pass  the  first  few  mo 
ments  of  the  day  together.  They  sing  and  listen  to 
a  brief  reading,  sometimes  followed  by  a  prayer. 


THE    PUBLIC    SCHOOLS  161 

If  there  are  announcements  to  be  made  to  the  chil 
dren,  this  opportunity  for  it  is  taken. 

In  the  upper  classes  of  these  schools,  civic  mat 
ters  are  the  object  of  special  lessons,  in  which  an 
important  part  is  left  to  the  children  themselves. 
They  are  asked  to  tell  what  they  have  seen  or  read 
that  is  of  interest  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
general  good  of  the  city  in  which  they  live,  or  of 
the  country  at  large.  Discussion  is  allowed,  and  the 
session  is  usually  animated.  From  time  to  time  the 
children  even  propose  sending  a  testimonial  of 
respect  to  some  citizen  who  has  rendered  a  public 
service.  By  the  lively  fashion  in  which  they  enter 
into  these  discussions  of  public  affairs,  it  is  plainly 
seen  that  they  begin  early  to  give  attention  to  poli 
tics,  in  the  broad  and  noble  sense  of  the  term.  The 
Republic  and  its  fortunes;  the  progress  of  civilisa 
tion,  material  and  moral;  anything,  indeed,  that 
concerns  the  public  spirit  or  public  interests,  at 
tracts  their  attention. 

One  quickly  perceives  that  the  national  life  is 
homogeneous,  in  spite  of  the  extent  of  territory  and 
diversity  of  inhabitants.  The  foundation  of  the 
country's  institutions  is  not  in  question;  the  demo 
cratic  ideal  is  the  ideal  accepted  by  everybody. 


162     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

With  us  accord  has  not  yet  been  reached  upon  this 
fundamental  question;  there  is  division  among 
minds  in  spite  of  the  homogeneity  of  the  popula 
tion.  Under  such  conditions,  questions  which  touch 
the  public  weal  stir  up  animosities  and  contradic 
tions,  and  for  the  sake  of  peace  we  must  be  silent 
in  our  schools  on  facts  of  great  educational  import, 
otherwise  the  teachers  would  seem  to  their  pupils 
to  take  the  part  of  one  or  another  of  our  political 
factions.  They  are  obliged  to  content  themselves 
with  teaching  France  in  the  abstract.  Painful  ex 
perience  brings  us  daily  in  contact  with  the  fact 
that  there  is  more  than  one  France;  but  by  force 
of  persistent  goodwill  and  a  broader  comprehen 
sion  of  our  true  interests,  we  must  in  the  end  meet 
on  common  ground,  and  when  that  day  comes,  teach 
ers  may  speak  before  their  pupils  of  the  country's 
men  and  affairs,  without  being  accused  of  serving 
political  ends.  It  will  be  a  fine  day  to  see !  We  shall 
then  enjoy  the  enviable  privilege  that  America  al 
ready  has. 

The  public  school  is  nowhere  more  interesting 
than  in  the  newer  states,  and  in  growing  cities.  In 
one  of  the  large  public  schools  of  Minneapolis, 
attended  by  hundreds  of  children,  the  principal 


THE    PUBLIC    SCHOOLS  163 

was  so  kind  as  to  assemble  them  for  us  in  a  long 
corridor.  They  stood  in  thick  ranks,  the  big  ones 
against  the  wall,  the  little  ones  in  front,  after  the 
fashion  of  pipes  in  an  organ.  I  had  before  me  off 
shoots  of  many  nations,  whose  origin  might  well 
be  recognised  by  the  colour  of  their  hair: — tow- 
headed  Scandinavians,  reminding  one  of  the  flax 
their  mothers  spin  with  the  distaff  in  the  long 
northern  nights ;  Irish  with  locks  of  auburn  or  car 
rot  or  fiery  red;  dusky  Italians,  blond  Germans. 
And  the  whole  gamut  of  eyes,  those  beautiful  chil 
dren's  eyes,  that  nothing  on  earth  equals  in  charm 
and  vivacity.  I  made  a  mental  picture  of  the  fami 
lies  from  which  these  children  came  and  of  the 
ships  that  had  brought  them  here,  emigrants  from 
all  the  corners  of  the  earth ! 

At  a  signal  from  the  teacher,  the  children  sang 
the  American  national  anthem.  I  heard  it  sung 
often,  but  at  no  other  time  did  it  produce  such  an 
effect  upon  me.  Were  not  these  the  offspring  of 
many  peoples?  And  yet,  one  same  ardent  and  pa 
triotic  conviction  vibrated  in  all  their  voices,  and 
animated  all  their  faces.  All  these  dear  little  chil 
dren  were  celebrating  America  with  one  heart.  In 
their  song,  transformed  for  me  into  a  symbol,  I 


164     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

found  an  expression  of  great  facts  that  highly 
honour  the  hospitable  land  of  which  they  are  a 
product.  I  saw  a  vision  of  the  great-hearted  country 
whither  those  hasten  who  are  driven  from  their 
native  soil  by  lack  of  bread.  Coming  from  regions 
darkened  by  deprivation  and  misery,  they  find  here 
a  place  in  the  field  of  labour  and  in  the  sunshine  of 
human  dignity.  Their  children  have  decent  clothing, 
a  home  to  live  in,  and  good  food;  these  blooming 
faces  alone  show  that.  The  adopted  country  has 
been  kind,  and  they  are  grateful.  To  the  right  of 
asylum  has  been  added  the  right  of  citizenship,  con 
ferring  the  legitimate  pride  of  being  citizens  of  the 
first  Republic  of  the  world. 

America  is  a  good  mother,  who  not  only  is  pas 
sionately  loved  by  her  own  children,  but  also  makes 
herself  adored  by  her  children  by  adoption.  From 
the  second  generation  all  these  newcomers  and  their 
descendants  are  Americans,  are  a  new  race. 

When  we  ask  ourselves  by  what  means  America 
solves  the  great  question  of  receiving  and  assimilat 
ing  the  ceaseless  tide  of  emigration  which  is  for 
her  at  once  a  resource  and  a  grave  problem,  we  are 
impressed  with  the  importance  of  the  public  school. 
It  is  the  great  organ  of  assimilation  and  digestion — 


THE    PUBLIC    SCHOOLS  165 

the  stomach  of  America.  Here  the  children  of  every 
race  come  in  contact  with  one  another,  and  here 
America  treats  them  in  that  tolerant  and  hospitable 
spirit,  at  once  liberal  and  restrictive,  rigorous  and 
kindly,  which  is,  as  it  were,  the  temperament  of 
her  powerful  and  pacific  democracy.  And  once  im 
bued  with  this  spirit,  they  are  hers ;  for  it  is  a  spirit 
that  elevates,  gives  dignity,  inspires  a  just  pride  in 
the  whole  of  which  the  newcomer  has  become  a 
part,  and  such  love  for  it  that  when  he  sings  the 
national  anthem,  in  which  so  much  simple  and  pious 
love  of  the  country  and  its  history  is  mingled  so 
naturally  with  an  authentic  and  tolerant  religious 
faith,  he  is  giving  expression  to  his  own  soul.  He 
has  become  one  with  the  starry  flag;  he  is  de 
scended  from  the  Pilgrim  Fathers;  Washington  is 
his  ancestor,  the  race  of  Lincoln  is  his.  All  this  is 
expressed  in  four  words  that  are  often  heard  spoken 
with  particular  conviction :  I  am  an  American. 

One  day  in  New  York,  I  asked  little  Royal  An 
derson,  nephew  of  my  charming  hostess,  Miss 
Louise  Sullivan,  "Are  you  a  kind  boy?"  He  re 
plied:  "  I  am  an  American."  It  was  worth  while 
seeing  his  chest  swell  as  he  said  it. 


XXVI 

HIGH    SCHOOLS 

IN  every  centre  of  sufficient  importance  there 
is  a  High  School,  which  is  also  generally  co 
educational;  it  is  the  intermediate  step  be 
tween  the  public  school  and  the  college,  and  pre 
pares  the  majority  of  the  American  youth  for  their 
careers.  These  schools  are  generally  in  the  heart 
of  the  population,  within  easy  reach  of  all,  for  like 
the  public  schools  they  admit  no  boarding  pupils. 
Science,  mathematics,  languages,  literature  and  the 
arts  are  taught  in  them,  music  holding  an  important 
place,  as  in  all  the  schools  of  the  Republic.  The 
high  school  buildings  are  spacious  and  well  lighted. 
Along  their  wide  corridors  are  excellent  photogra 
vures  representing  the  monuments  of  antiquity,  the 
chief  masterpieces  of  European  architecture,  and 
celebrated  paintings  of  the  great  masters,  as  well 
as  plaster  casts  of  the  world's  most  remarkable 
works  of  sculpture.  Among  these  reproductions, 

designed  to  form  the  artistic  taste,  portraits  of  great 
166 


HIGH    SCHOOLS  167 

American  citizens  intended  to  personify  the  aspira 
tions  of  the  country  and  its  ideals,  and  to  perpetu 
ate  the  great  facts  of  its  history,  are  always  to  be 
found.  Among  these  and  other  figures  that  all 
humanity  reveres,  it  is  not  rare  to  come  upon  the 
bust  of  Napoleon.  I  had  already  encountered  it  in 
business  offices,  in  drawing-rooms,  on  the  pediments 
of  libraries;  and  here  in  the  offices  and  corridors 
and  class  rooms  of  schools,  I  found  it  again.  Un 
questionably  Napoleon  is  popular  in  America,  and 
it  is  chiefly  in  his  character  of  self-made  man.  His 
prodigious  activity;  his  unswerving  course  over  ob 
stacles  ;  his  almost  superhuman  destiny,  that  led  him 
from  an  obscure  origin  to  be  the  arbiter  of  the 
world — all  these  things  give  him  an  extraordinary 
eminence  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  have  not,  like 
us,  to  wipe  out  the  ill-starred  past  which  is  our 
legacy  from  his  autocracy.  When  one  recalls  what 
role  Napoleon  and  his  laws  have  played  in  our  sys 
tem  of  education,  and  the  traces  his  tyrant's  hand 
has  left  upon  our  secondary  schools  for  boys,  it  is 
with  surprise  that  one  looks  upon  his  face  in  the 
free  schools  of  a  country  with  whose  ideals  the 
Napoleonic  ferule  presents  so  terrible  a  contrast. 
Along  with  her  high  schools,  America  possesses 


168     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

a  quantity  of  institutions  comparable  in  curriculum 
to  our  lycees  and  colleges,  but  falling  far  short  of 
them  in  organisation  and  esprit  de  corps.  These 
schools  are  very  often  in  the  country,  beside  a  lake, 
on  a  hillside,  or  even  in  the  heart  of  a  wood.  They 
receive  boarding  pupils,  who  fortunately  escape  the 
rigid  monotony  of  the  life  in  our  schools,  and  most 
of  its  disadvantages.  The  dormitory  has  almost  uni 
versally  disappeared,  as  also  the  too  vast  and  gloomy 
dining-hall,  and  the  school  is  distributed  in  a  num 
ber  of  buildings  of  ordinary  dimensions,  rather  than 
confined  to  one  huge  barrack,  permitting  sleeping- 
and  dining-rooms  to  have  a  homelike  aspect.  As  to 
recreation,  that  is  taken  at  large.  No  dingy  galleries 
for  exercise,  no  high  walls,  no  horrible  yard  (hap 
pily  that  is  disappearing  among  us  also!)  paved 
with  gravel  and  filled  with  dust,  where  a  few  sickly 
trees  stand  as  symbols  of  the  regime  of  the  estab 
lishment.  One  doesn't  get  the  impression  of  being 
among  a  lot  of  convicts.  Iron  gratings,  barred  win 
dows,  gloomy  parlours  where  visitors  come  to  talk 
in  hushed  tones  with  the  prisoners;  pedantic  regu 
lations,  sinister  drum-calls — the  whole  system  which 
we  owe  to  the  great  man  whose  hat  and  cloak  are 
so  popular  in  America — all  this  is  wanting  in  the 


HIGH    SCHOOLS  169 

scholastic  customs  of  the  United  States.  A  child  can 
slip  out  of  school  without  accompaniment  of  trum 
pet  and  drum.  The  sports  take  place  in  the  open; 
the  key  to  the  fields  is  in  every  pupil's  pocket.  The 
whole  thing  is  absolutely  without  constraint,  though 
not  without  discipline  and  superintendence.  The 
character  and  conduct  of  the  children  are  the  object 
of  a  surveillance  quiet,  but  constant  and  effective; 
they  are  not  persecuted,  but  they  are  never  lost  sight 
of.  Their  personal  habits,  their  industry,  and  their 
truthfulness  in  word  and  deed,  occupy  the  atten 
tion  of  their  teachers  as  much  as  does  instruction 
itself.  Above  all,  constant  efforts  are  made  to  lead 
them  to  govern  themselves  and  watch  themselves. 
It  is  considered,  and  most  justly,  that  good  beha 
viour  which  arises  solely  from  the  constant  presence 
of  the  master,  rests  on  a  very  poor  foundation,  and 
only  awaits  the  occasion  to  become  bad  behaviour. 
That  each  pupil  should  be  a  somebody,  be  conscious 
of  his  dignity,  take  upon  himself  the  responsibility 
for  his  acts,  and  preside  over  the  republic  within 
him — this  is  the  aim  toward  which  education  is 
directed.  It  is  education  for  freedom,  conducted 
through  a  personal  discipline,  the  education  of 
"  self-control." 


170     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

As  soon  as  the  self-control  begins  to  be  exercised, 
the  discipline  becomes  easy.  Each  one  preserves  it 
in  the  matters  which  concern  him,  and  the  lamen 
table  coercive  measures  that  enfeeble  the  will  are 
looked  upon  as  directly  contrary  to  the  purposes  of 
education.  Most  of  these  schools  have  infirmaries, 
generally  in  some  attractive  corner  apart,  and  one 
or  more  nurses  care  for  the  young  patients,  who 
by  no  means  seem  unhappy  there. 

The  appearance  of  American  schoolboys  and 
schoolgirls  is  happy  in  general,  as  one  may  readily 
observe  when  they  are  assembled  in  the  larger 
rooms  for  the  opening  of  the  school.  It  is  a  pleas 
ure  to  look  from  one  to  another  of  these  faces  that 
radiate  health  and  good-humour. 

Matters  of  hygiene  are  carefully  considered,  and 
too  long  periods  are  never  allowed  to  pass  without 
some  relaxation.  When  this  is  in  the  form  of  exer 
cise  in  the  open  air,  the  children  frequently  take 
a  shower-bath  afterward,  to  prevent  drowsiness  in 
class,  and  to  guard  against  colds.  In  the  midst  of 
the  recitation  periods  there  is  often  a  break  of  five 
or  ten  minutes  during  which  the  children  take  a 
little  exhilarating  exercise  where  they  are.  A  piano 
in  the  corridor  gives  the  signal,  and  the  pupils  in 


HIGH    SCHOOLS  171 

the  different  class  rooms,  under  direction  of  their 
teachers,  execute  a  series  of  well-chosen  move 
ments.  This  sets  their  blood  circulating  afresh, 
quiets  their  restlessness,  and  stimulates  them  to 
work. 


A 


XXVII 

UNIVERSITIES 

MONG  the  American  universities  situated 
in  large  cities,  I  saw  in  particular  those 
at  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Boston,  Chi 
cago,  Minneapolis,  and  Toronto,  but  by  a  happy 
combination  of  circumstances,  an  important  part  of 
American  university  life  long  ago  sought  refuge  in 
the  silence  and  pure  air  of  the  country.  Among 
establishments  of  the  latter  sort  that  I  visited, 
sometimes  tarrying  a  little,  should  be  named  Har 
vard,  Oberlin,  Mount  Holyoke  College,  and  Vassar. 
Harvard  is  everywhere  known  as  a  great  univer 
sity  for  men.  Situated  at  the  gates  of  Boston,  a  city 
of  traditions,  full  of  scholastic  memories  and  dis 
posed  to  letters,  science  and  art,  Harvard  has  been 
richly  endowed  by  friends  old  and  new,  and  is  the 
alma  mater  of  a  long  line  of  illustrious  Americans, 
including  President  Roosevelt.  Harvard  and  its 
rival  in  sports  and  learning,  Yale,  are  centres  from 
which  light  radiates  afar.  Oberlin  is  less  well  known 

in  France,  and  yet,  this  university  of  the  State  of 
172 


UNIVERSITIES  173 

Ohio  bears  the  name  of  an  illustrious  Frenchman, 
Oberlin,  the  great  pastor  living  at  Ban-de-la-Roche 
at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  This  Alsatian  pastor  was  the 
pioneer  in  an  original  and  active  kind  of  piety; 
to  give  a  body  to  the  Gospel  doctrine,  he  used  not 
only  language  but  also  the  pickaxe  and  all  the  im 
plements  of  the  roads  and  fields,  translating  the 
Bible  into  practical  deeds,  civilisation,  and  social 
institutions.  He  has  so  impressed  the  mind  of  a 
nation  of  people  who  have  broken  ground,  and  built, 
and  civilised  as  no  others  ever  did,  that  they  have 
made  him  one  of  their  models,  and  perpetuated 
his  name  in  one  of  their  universities. 

Oberlin  is  situated  far  from  cities,  in  a  grassy 
and  slightly  rolling  region,  near  a  small  village  of 
the  same  name.  As  at  all  the  universities  similarly 
placed,  the  houses  of  the  members  of  the  faculty 
line  broad  avenues,  while  a  series  of  spacious  build 
ings,  spreading  over  an  extensive  campus  turfed 
and  planted  with  trees,  contain  the  laboratories,  the 
lecture  and  study  rooms,  the  library,  the  art  mu 
seum  and  the  conservatory  of  music.  Excepting  cer 
tain  departments  of  medicine,  which  demand  the 
proximity  of  large  cities  and  their  hospitals,  all 


174    MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

the  branches  of  human  knowledge  are  taught  here. 
The  University  is  co-educational,  and  the  number 
of  men  and  women  students  is  about  equal.  In  the 
centre  of  the  numerous  ivy-covered  buildings  which 
make  up  the  university  group,  stands  a  church,  and 
here  all  these  young  people  assemble  every  morn 
ing  together  with  their  instructors,  to  begin  the 
day  with  religious  exercises.  The  conservatory  of 
music,  whose  courses  are  very  popular,  and  which 
gives  artistic  advantages  of  a  very  high  order,  con 
tains  an  auditorium  where  one  of  the  largest  organs 
in  the  United  States  is  at  present  being  set  up.  The 
students  are  formed  into  choral  and  other  musical 
societies;  they  are  grouped  besides  into  all  sorts  of 
societies  whose  purpose  is  mental  or  moral  culture. 
Practically  the  whole  student  body  is  attached  to 
the  various  athletic  and  gymnastic  clubs.  And  so 
the  University  is  a  sort  of  humming  hive  in  the 
midst  of  a  happy,  cheerful  solitude;  it  is  a  little 
world  that  in  its  studious  isolation  and  the  harvests 
of  its  toil,  recalls  the  sacred  groves  of  the  muses. 
The  pursuit  of  knowledge  here  is  surrounded  by 
an  atmosphere  of  peace,  and  through  the  perpetual 
contact  of  a  great  number  of  hard-working  stu 
dents,  study  attains  a  considerable  degree  of  in- 


UNIVERSITIES  175 

tensity,  yet  without  detriment  to  the  physical  life. 
You  are  conscious  of  contentment  in  the  air,  and 
the  dominance  of  a  healthy  spirit.  All  these  young 
people  bear  in  their  faces  signs  of  a  normal  and 
well-balanced  existence;  in  fine,  they  pass  here 
some  of  the  happiest  of  their  years.  I  was  able  to 
convince  myself  of  this,  as  a  general  fact  regard 
ing  American  colleges,  not  only  by  the  daily  round 
as  I  observed  it  in  the  different  ones  I  visited,  and 
by  the  tone  dominant  in  them,  but  also  by  the  memo 
ries  of  college  days  left  in  the  hearts  of  those  who 
have  once  shared  in  them.  Everywhere  I  met  men 
and  women  who  spoke  with  emotion  and  gratitude 
of  the  years  spent  in  college. 

Oberlin  draws  its  students  from  the  middle 
classes  more  than  Harvard  or  Yale,  her  young  peo 
ple  frequently  having  their  own  way  to  make,  and 
only  themselves  to  count  upon.  Here  at  the  Univer 
sity  they  live  in  dormitories  near  the  lecture  halls. 
The  men's  dormitories  have  no  kitchen  and  dining- 
room  attached,  but  the  women's  dormitories  have 
both,  and  here,  in  groups  of  from  twelve  to  twenty 
at  a  table,  with  animated  conversation  and  much 
gaiety,  all  the  students,  men  and  women,  take  their 
meals  together.  I  always  enjoyed  very  specially 


176    MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

the  sight  of  these  groups  at  table,  to  which  the 
presence  of  the  two  sexes  gave  a  note  of  originality, 
and  whose  effect  upon  their  mutual  education  is  so 
salutary. 

Young  as  they  are  in  comparison  with  our  old 
European  universities,  the  American  universities 
and  colleges  have  their  histories,  which  are  rever 
ently  preserved;  it  would  seem  that  America  is  so 
much  the  more  careful  of  her  souvenirs  because  of 
the  lesser  extent  of  time  she  has  had  from  which  to 
gather  them.  The  names  and  remembrance  of  the 
donors  of  libraries,  museums,  laboratories,  or  obser 
vatories  are  everywhere  preserved,  and  there  is  al 
ways  some  tablet  or  monument  to  honour  the  names 
of  a  university's  sons  who  have  distinguished  them 
selves  in  the  world,  the  choicest  places  being  re 
served  for  those  who  have  performed  some  act  of 
self-sacrifice. 

The  chief  military  school  of  the  United  States, 
at  West  Point  on  the  Hudson,  commemorates  espe 
cially  the  names  and  deeds  of  heroes  in  war.  West 
Point  is  an  eyrie  perched  on  rock  that  falls  perpen 
dicularly  to  the  river.  When  you  reach  the  top  you 
discover  a  plateau  of  great  extent,  on  which  are 
immense  barracks,  study  and  lecture  halls,  and  a 


UNIVERSITIES  177 

parade  ground  where  at  the  moment  of  our  arrival 
the  whole  population  of  the  school  was  marching 
with  music  and  spread  banners.  The  cadets  carry 
themselves  superbly.  They  spend  at  least  half  their 
time  in  physical  exercise.  One  of  their  sports,  very 
popular  and  demanding  excellent  horsemanship, 
consists  in  striking  balls  from  horseback.  Armed 
with  long-handled  mallets,  the  players  dash  over 
the  grassy  field,  and  the  skill  of  their  evolutions  is 
sometimes  astounding. 

Among  the  immense  buildings  of  the  Military 
School  is  one  designed  for  war  relics,  Memorial 
Hall.  Not  one  of  America's  sons  falls  on  the  field 
of  battle,  that  his  name  is  not  graven  there,  amid 
the  busts  or  portraits  of  fallen  generals  and  paint 
ings  of  the  scenes  of  war.  In  this  building  are  vast 
apartments  where  anniversaries  are  celebrated,  at 
which  guests,  in  some  way  connected  with  the  army, 
are  received  in  numbers.  Those  are  great  dates  of 
patriotic  sentiment,  a  sentiment  which,  however 
much  more  notably  displayed  in  the  memorials  of 
West  Point,  is  no  less  constant  and  responsive 
throughout  the  American  schools. 


XXVIII 

MOUNT    HOLYOKE    COLLEGE 

SUCH  is  the  present  name  of  one  of  the  old 
est    educational   institutions    for   women   in 
the   United   States,  or  in  the  world.   This 
College  of  the  "  Sacred  Oak,"  founded  as  a  sem 
inary  in  1836,  and  chartered  as  a  college  in  1888, 
is  situated  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Holyoke,  in  the 
beautiful    hill    country    of    Massachusetts.    It    is 
reached  by  trolley  in  a  half -hour  from  the  railway 
station.  A  pretty  village  lies  near  it,  otherwise  the 
open,  and  complete  solitude. 

The  original  building,  together  with  two  or  three 
others  that  had  grown  up  around  it,  was  utterly 
destroyed  by  fire,  in  1896,  and  for  the  moment  it 
seemed  as  though  the  very  life  of  the  institution 
were  wiped  out.  But  it  had  too  vigorous  root  in  the 
affections  of  the  alumnae  scattered  throughout  the 
country  to  remain  buried  under  its  ashes.  The  walls 
were  raised  again,  but  upon  another  scale,  and 

twenty  different  buildings  came  to  replace  the  two 
178 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE    COLLEGE      179 

or  three.  Now  Mount  Holyoke  College  salutes  you 
from  afar  with  the  smile  of  its  ivy-covered  build 
ings.  Here  is  the  library,  there  the  Memorial  Art 
Building,  yonder  are  the  gymnasium  and  swimming- 
pool.  Beyond  lies  Mary  Lyon  Hall,  including  the 
beautiful  and  capacious  chapel;  then  the  plant 
houses,  the  hospital,  the  laboratories,  lecture  halls 
and  dormitories,  and  the  observatory.  This  last 
building  was  shown  me  by  a  woman  astronomer  who 
spends  her  whole  time  there,  giving  lectures  both 
by  day  and  by  night.  Some  very  pretty  houses, 
situated  a  little  apart,  are  the  homes  of  those  pro 
fessors  who  prefer  some  solitude.  All  the  members 
of  the  faculty  save  two  or  three  are  women.  I  visited 
a  class  in  chemistry  and  saw  a  score  of  students,  in 
cased  in  white  aprons  from  head  to  foot,  experi 
menting  with  ferments.  The  seriousness  with  which 
they  observed  their  test  tubes  and  made  note  of 
their  observations,  gave  them  the  air  of  alchemists 
seeking  the  philosopher's  stone.  In  certain  Ameri 
can  industries  women  find  very  agreeable  and  lucra 
tive  positions  as  chemists. 

In  the  conservatories  I  found  a  number  of  young 
women  occupied  in  the  study  or  care  of  the  plants, 
and  in  the  Art  Building  groups  of  them  were  draw- 


180     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

ing,  painting,  modelling,  or  busy  with  work  relative 
to  architecture  and  house  decoration. 

Several  hundred  students  came  together  to  listen 
to  my  lecture  in  French,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
perceiving  that  they  understood  the  language  very 
well  indeed.  The  head  of  the  French  department  is 
a  highly  cultivated  young  woman,  who  has  spent 
several  years  in  Paris,  where  she  followed  among 
other  courses  those  of  M.  Gaston  Paris.  At  my  lec 
ture  in  English,  I  had  before  me  the  whole  student 
body,  a  kindly  and  receptive  audience  that  it  is  a 
great  pleasure  to  address,  and  that  sustains  and  in 
spires  you  by  its  sympathy. 

I  had  been  invited  to  dinner  at  the  house  of  the 
dean,  where  she  lives  in  the  midst  of  a  hundred  or 
more  students.  There  were  six  or  seven  tables,  and 
the  ladies  themselves  served,  which  I  found  alto 
gether  charming.  Inquiring  into  this  detail,  I 
learned  that  all  the  students  have  a  share  in  the 
domestic  affairs  of  the  college,  and  an  important 
part  of  the  work  is  done  by  them,  the  corps  of 
servants  being  thus  reduced  to  a  minimum.  The 
class-room  work  does  not  suffer  on  this  account, 
for  a  little  physical  labour  is  a  relaxation,  and  re 
stores  disturbed  mental  equilibrium;  and  the  purse 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE    COLLEGE      181 

gains  by  it,  too,  the  expense  for  board  being  les 
sened  by  this  very  practical  arrangement.  I  had 
also  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  corridors  of  the 
house  swept  by  cultivated  and  attractive  young 
women,  who  with  broom  in  hand  appeared  to  me 
prettier  than  ever.  Already  I  had  been  told  how 
some  courageous  ones  among  the  students  as  com 
panions  and  in  various  lucrative  employments,  and 
others  even  as  teachers  in  the  secondary  schools, 
had  earned  the  money  necessary  for  their  college 
course. 

I  chanced  to  be  at  Mount  Holyoke  the  evening 
of  the  day  on  which  President  Roosevelt  was 
elected,  and  the  college,  calm  to  outward  appear 
ance,  was  in  a  state  of  agitation  within.  During 
my  lecture,  while  the  result  of  the  election  was  as 
yet  unknown,  I  made  allusion  to  the  exciting  event 
of  the  day,  looking  upon  the  success  of  Mr.  Roose 
velt  as  certain.  Instantly  there  was  an  outburst  of 
joy  in  the  audience,  a  thousand  handkerchiefs  were 
waved  frantically,  and  a  vigorous  stamping  of 
feet  was  heard  throughout  the  hall.  The  next  morn 
ing,  when  the  truth  was  learned,  the  jollification 
knew  no  bounds.  For  two  hours  we  heard  patriotic 
songs,  college  songs,  and  peculiar  cries  that  Amer- 


182     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

lean  students  of  both  sexes  use  to  express  their 
satisfaction.  These  cries,  in  which  the  women  are 
by  no  means  outdone  by  the  men,  are  given  with 
an  energy  I  should  qualify  as  savage,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  in  my  own  mind  that  they  originated  with 
the  primitive  redskins. 

Women  do  not  vote  in  the  United  States.  To 
make  amends  for  this  deficiency,  the  young  women 
of  Mount  Holyoke  had  decided  to  hold  a  private 
election  the  day  before  the  public  one.  They  had 
observed  minutely  all  the  usages,  following  out  a 
campaign  in  the  college  newspaper,  holding  meet 
ings  and  posting  placards.  On  the  appointed  day 
the  vote  was  taken  with  the  strictest  formalities, 
even  special  policemen — or  more  exactly,  police 
women — being  appointed,  in  conformity  with  the 
prevailing  custom,  "  to  prevent  bribery."  The  re 
sult  of  the  election  was  a  formidable  majority  in 
favour  of  President  Roosevelt.  Some  days  later,  at 
the  White  House,  I  related  these  amusing  details 
to  Mr.  Roosevelt,  who  laughed  over  them  heartily. 

Before  leaving  Mount  Holyoke,  I  was  present  at 
the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  a  new  and  im 
portant  building,  whose  walls,  indeed,  had  already 
a  considerable  elevation.  By  the  paths  which  wind 


MOUNT   HOLYOKE    COLLEGE      183 

about  the  lawns,  between  beautiful  sycamores,  I 
saw  advancing  toward  the  chapel,  where  a  part  of 
the  ceremony  was  to  be  performed,  a  long  and 
stately  procession,  the  whole  college  body  and  their 
guests,  in  ermine,  caps  and  gowns.  A  choir  composed 
of  two  hundred  young  women  in  white  surplices, 
preceded  the  train.  The  President  of  the  College 
and  several  dignitaries  from  neighbouring  colleges 
made  speeches,  and  there  was  some  wonderful 
chorus  singing.  The  remainder  of  the  day  was  given 
up  to  general  merry-making. 

Merry-making  is  often  in  the  college  programme, 
and  outdoor  sports,  daily  exercise,  wholesome  food 
and  a  normal  existence  generally,  without  too  much 
fuss  over  examinations,  make  for  these  studious 
young  people  a  very  happy  life. 


XXIX 
DOCTOR    HONORIS    CAUSA 

AMONG    the    marks    of    kind    friendship 
whose   remembrance   will   always   remain 
precious   to   us,   it  is   impossible   to   pass 
over  the  one  which  came  from  Temple  College  in 
Philadelphia;  but  before  telling  the  story  of  how 
the  doctor's  degree  was  conferred  upon  us,  let  me 
present   Dr.   Conwell,  the  distinguished  President 
of  the  College. 

Dr.  Conwell  is  tall,  spare,  dark  and  wiry,  with 
an  expressive  face  marked  by  an  aquiline  nose  and 
lighted  by  the  sombre  fires  of  kind  but  penetrating 
eyes.  A  part  of  his  life  was  spent  in  journeying 
around  the  world,  and  at  one  time  he  followed  the 
perilous  occupation  of  war  correspondent  in  the 
Far  East.  After  accumulating  all  this  experience, 
he  underwent  an  inner  transformation  from  which 
his  mind  emerged  animated  by  ardent  religious  con 
victions,  and  he  became  a  preacher  and  a  teacher, 
transporting  the  splendid  ardour  of  the  globe 
trotter  to  the  field  of  religious  and  social  activity. 

Equipped  with  a  great  store  of  practical  knowledge, 
184 


DOCTOR  HONORIS  CAUSA    185 

and  with  wide  learning;  endowed  with  an  iron  con 
stitution  and  at  the  same  time  with  a  versatility  of 
mind  that  renders  him  broad,,  tolerant  and  cordial 
in  his  relations,  he  gives  the  benefit  of  all  these  fine 
qualities  to  his  work.  As  a  result  of  years  of  cease 
less  labour  on  his  part,  including  lecture  tours  from 
one  end  of  the  United  States  to  the  other,  Philadel 
phia  owes  to  him  her  largest  Baptist  church,  and 
the  creation  of  a  very  complete  college  of  the  popu 
lar  order. 

The  church  seats  over  three  thousand  people,  but 
Dr.  Conwell,  abreast  of  all  the  possibilities  of  the 
day,  has  had  a  highly  perfected  telephonic  appara 
tus  set  up  in  it,  thus  enabling  the  preacher  to  have  a 
congregation  considerably  beyond  the  church's  ca 
pacity.  The  primary  object  of  this  arrangement  was 
purely  humanitarian  and  neighbourly  —  to  make 
it  possible  for  the  patients  of  a  hospital  in  the 
vicinity  to  take  part  in  the  service.  Half  a  dozen 
receivers,  suspended  in  front  of  the  pulpit,  trans 
mit  not  only  the  voice  of  the  preacher  but  the  music 
of  the  organ,  choir,  and  congregation,  so  that  the 
patients  in  their  beds,  by  the  use  of  headpiece 
receivers,  are  able  to  follow  the  church  service 
throughout.  The  apparatus  once  installed,  however, 


18G     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

its  use  far  outran  the  first  intention.  By  simply 
giving  notice  a  day  in  advance,  any  telephone  sub 
scriber  may  put  himself  in  communication  with 
"  The  Temple  "  for  the  duration  of  the  service. 
What  wonderful  possibilities  in  such  an  arrange 
ment! 

The  first  time  I  saw  Dr.  Conwell  he  was  in  the 
pulpit.  It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock  on  a  Sunday  even 
ing,  and  he  was  preaching  while  awaiting  my  arrival 
from  a  distant  quarter  of  the  city,  whence  I  was 
coming  to  greet  his  congregation.  His  sermon  was 
directed  against  certain  social  crimes  which  offend 
or  defraud  God  in  the  person  of  men.  With  unspar 
ing  clearness  he  was  pointing  out  one  by  one  the 
cases  where,  because  of  base  interests  or  brutal 
egoism,  we,  in  the  very  height  of  our  civilisation, 
deprive  men,  women  and  children  of  their  right  to 
life,  liberty,  mental  enlightenment,  and  moral 
growth ;  and  as  he  enumerated  these  things,  he  cried 
with  passionate  force  that  lent  his  words  the 
majesty  of  vengeance:  "  You  rob  God!  " 

Several  times  afterward  Dr.  Conwell  invited  me 
to  speak  before  his  great  congregation,  and  in  long 
talks  which  we  had  together  I  learned  all  about 
the  splendid  work  accomplished  in  the  church  and 


DOCTOR   HONORIS    CAUSA        187 

in  the  college  standing  beside  it  and  bearing  its 
name. 

Temple  College,  with  its  hundreds  of  students 
and  a  faculty  of  distinguished  professors,  both  men 
and  women,  aims  specially  to  make  study  acces 
sible  to  any  one  whomsoever  that  has  capacity  for  it. 
One  section  of  the  work  is  carried  on  wholly  in 
the  evening.  Here  workingmen,  clerks  and  other 
people  employed  during  the  day,  come  to  follow 
the  lectures,  and  in  the  course  of  years  are  able 
to  get  a  degree.  The  College  is  a  great,  beneficent 
human  hive,  where  intelligent  working  men  and 
women  may  receive  an  initiation  into  the  intellec 
tual  life.  This  is  the  college  that  was  pleased  to  offer 
me  a  doctor's  degree,  extending  this  same  courtesy 
to  my  travelling  companion,  and  the  character  and 
aims  of  the  institution  made  us  so  much  the  more 
appreciative  of  the  offer,  which  we  cordially  ac 
cepted. 

The  twenty-third  of  November  was  the  time  set 
for  the  ceremony.  On  that  day,  surrounded  by  the 
whole  corps  of  professors,  we  entered  the  hall, 
which  was  overflowing  with  a  sympathetic  audience. 
It  was  not  for  us  alone  that  the  tribute  was  in 
tended,  but  through  us  for  France  herself,  as  was 


188     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

very  plainly  to  be  seen.  The  whole  great  hall,  with 
its  spacious  platforms  and  galleries,  was  draped 
with  the  mingled  colours  of  France  and  America ;  as 
the  first  number  on  the  programme,  the  Marseil 
laise  was  sung  by  a  quartet,  with  inspiring  vigour, 
and  in  all  the  speeches  allusions  were  made  to  the 
sister  Republic.  One  of  these  speeches  was  given  by 
the  Mayor  of  Philadelphia,  who  profited  by  the 
occasion  to  make  known  the  fact  that  he  himself 
was  once  a  student  at  Temple  College.  He  had  been 
started  on  his  upward  career  by  this  fostering 
mother  of  those  who  must  study  at  night  while  they 
earn  their  living  by  day. 

Every  allusion  to  France  turned  the  ready  ap 
plause  of  the  enthusiastic  crowd  into  a  general  dem 
onstration.  "  Tell  your  fellow-citizens,  and  repeat 
it  again  and  again,"  the  orators  who  succeeded  one 
another  on  the  platform,  in  turn,  enj  oined  upon  us, 
"  tell  your  fellow-citizens  in  what  vital  friendship 
we  hold  their  country,  and  how  much  we  desire  that 
she  should  be  strong,  prosperous,  and  animated  by 
the  spirit  which  makes  democracies  powerful." 

Then  they  gave  us  insignia,  caps  and  parchments, 
in  order  that  we  might  have  symbols  of  this  hour 
to  put  away  among  our  treasures. 


XXX 

A    QUAKER    REFORMATORY 

I  HAD  just  been  to  visit,  near  Philadelphia,  in 
an  attractive  section  of  country  where  open 
fields,  farms,  and  half -dismantled  forests  suc 
ceed  one  another,  a  fine  co-educational  school  under 
the  direction  of  the  Friends.  "  Now,"  said  Mr. 
Joseph  Elkinton,  the  merchant,  and  speaker  in  the 
Friends'  meetings,  "  come  let  me  show  you  another 
institution,  one  for  wayward  boys  and  young  men." 
We  set  out,  a  jolting  journey  over  ill-kept  cross 
roads,  and  soon  arrived  at  a  sort  of  city,  built  on 
a  broad-backed  hill,  and  made  up  of  a  score  of  build 
ings.  This  was  our  destination.  I  could  not  believe 
my  eyes.  For  a  house  of  correction,  the  place  lacks 
utterly  the  prescribed  physiognomy.  To  begin  with, 
there  are  no  walls,  not  even  a  palisade,  not  even  a 
detaining  wire;  the  inmates  may  come  and  go  at 
will.  To  a  question  on  the  subject,  Mr.  Elkinton 
replied  with  a  quizzical  smile:  "  That's  to  prevent 
evasions."  It  seems  that  nothing  keeps  people  from 
running  away,  like  giving  them  the  freedom  to  do 
189 


190     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

so  at  any  moment.  This  absence  of  barriers,  gates, 
bolts  and  ferocious  guards,  provided  me  with  much 
food  for  reflection,  and  I  ended  by  finding  it  per 
fectly  in  accord  with  the  principles  of  these  Friends, 
so  humane  in  all  things.  In  fact,  though  they  are 
true  believers,  having  the  faith  that  removes  moun 
tains,  they  have  not  built  about  their  spiritual  city 
those  walls  called  creeds — they  would  not  suffer 
a  barrier  that  should  confine  the  breathings  of  the 
Spirit  or  the  rays  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness. 
And  the  same  reasons  for  which  they  lack  the  eccle 
siastical  fibre,  make  them  halt  at  coercive  measures, 
even  in  the  case  of  youthful  delinquents.  Ah,  how 
well  I  understand  these  things,  and  how  admirable 
this  faith  in  freedom  seems  to  me ! 

As  we  approached  the  buildings,  which  are  dis 
posed  in  order  on  either  side  a  broad  avenue,  with 
the  superintendent's  office  at  the  end,  I  noticed  they 
were  all  overgrown  with  ivy;  not  the  ivy  we  know 
in  France;  that  could  not  endure  the  rigorous 
American  winters ;  but  an  ivy  which  loses  its  foliage 
in  autumn.  Before  falling,  the  leaves  take  on  beau 
tiful  shades  ranging  from  pink  to  deep  purple. 
You  would  have  said  of  these  buildings  that  splen 
did  sunset  fires  were  caressing  their  stone-work  and 


A   QUAKER    REFORMATORY        191 

casements.  It  was  so  charming,  that  the  smiling 
spot  seemed  rather  a  privileged  dwelling  where 
virtue  was  to  be  rewarded,  than  the  abode  of  se 
verity  for  the  correction  of  vice.  More  than  one 
soul  imbued  with  the  classic  principles  of  the  heavy 
hand,  would  have  felt  derision  rising  within. 

Mr.  Elkinton  pointed  out  a  building  in  process 
of  construction,  where  the  carpenters  were  about 
to  place  the  girders.  "  The  older  boys  of  the  insti 
tution,"  he  said,  "  are  building  this  house  under  the 
direction  of  skilled  workmen.  It  is  a  part  of  our 
system  to  have  our  labour  done  by  the  people  most 
interested/* 

We  began  a  round  of  the  buildings,  visiting 
workshops  and  school  rooms.  The  school  is  in 
session  only  in  the  morning,  except  for  the  younger 
children,  who  attend  equally  in  the  afternoon,  when 
the  shops  open  for  the  older  boys.  We  watched  the 
making  of  shoes,  clothing,  and  furniture,  saw  a 
newspaper  printed  and  clothes  laundered,  the  little 
fellows  ironing  their  blouses  with  electric  irons.  One 
iron  in  contact  with  a  current  may  be  used  indefi 
nitely,  and  there  are  no  fumes  of  gas  and  no 
smudges.  None  of  these  children  had  the  air  of 
constraint  I  had  always  observed  hitherto  in  insti- 


192     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

tutions  of  the  kind.  We  met  some  coming  in  from 
the  fields,  marching  in  rank  and  file  like  soldiers, 
but  the  expression  of  their  faces  was  that  of  boys 
contented  with  their  lot.  Mr.  Elkinton  told  me 
that  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  place  is  the 
restoration  of  the  sentiment  of  human  dignity,  in 
each  and  every  boy.  The  past  is  never  mentioned, 
but  is  looked  upon  as  pardoned  and  forgotten.  It 
is  thought  better  to  stimulate  the  heroic  fibre  in 
the  boys,  than  to  weaken  or  discourage  them  by  a 
too  vivid  and  persistent  sense  of  their  faults. 

We  visited  the  houses  in  which  they  lived.  These 
are  well  kept  and  manifestly  respected,  with  none 
of  the  traces  of  degradation  that  show  a  man  lack 
ing  in  regard  for  his  home.  On  the  tables  spread 
for  dinner,  the  glasses  and  dishes  were  immaculate, 
and  the  napkins,  if  you  will  believe  me,  were  folded 
coquettishly.  Everything  was  a  reminder  that  those 
who  sit  down  at  the  little  tables  for  six,  are 
looked  upon  as  individuals,  not  as  numbers.  While 
we  were  going  through  the  gymnasium,  with  its 
swimming-tanks,  a  chime  of  bells  began  to  sound 
in  the  clock  tower.  "  Is  it  mechanical?  "  I  asked. 
"  No,"  said  Mr.  Elkinton,  "  one  of  the  boys  is  play 
ing  it.  He  is  a  skilful  musician.  We  think  soothing 


A   QUAKER    REFORMATORY        193 

or  cheerful  music  may  have  a  good  effect  upon  the 
children,  especially  when  they  are  resting  and  can 
listen  quietly." 

After  we  had  completed  our  tour  of  inspection, 
we  were  given  an  opportunity  of  seeing,  in  the 
superintendent's  office,  a  number  of  very  remark 
able  albums  containing  pictures  of  all  the  past 
generations  of  the  school.  Each  child  has,  first,  a 
short  biography,  in  two  parts,  his  record  before  and 
during  his  life  there,  and  above  these  biographic 
details  are  two  photographs.  One  is  taken  upon  his 
entrance,  generally  at  the  moment  of  his  arrival; 
the  faces  of  this  group  are  pale  and  sly,  or  con 
strained  and  hypocritical.  The  other  photograph 
shows  the  same  pupil  on  the  day  of  his  departure, 
and  between  the  two  there  are  often  very  striking 
differences.  Against  a  minority  of  the  boys  who 
seem  not  to  have  profited  by  their  experience,  stands 
a  great  majority  whose  faces  reveal  a  complete 
transformation. 

I  had  a  long  talk  with  the  superintendent  and  a 
number  of  his  immediate  assistants.  They  are  all 
Friends,  though  there  is  not  a  single  Quaker  child 
among  the  poor  young  inmates  of  the  refuge.  In 
every  case  I  was  impressed  with  the  faith  of  these 


194     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

men  in  man  and  in  childhood;  they  are  much  less 
concerned  with  unearthing  the  native  corruption  in 
men,  than  with  discovering  in  each  one  of  them 
some  trace  of  the  image  of  God.  They  love  these 
children,  without  assuming  the  patronising  attitude 
toward  them  of  the  just  who  consent  to  put  them 
selves  into  contact  with  the  unjust.  They  are  true 
disciples  of  the  Master  who  took  upon  himself  the 
sins  of  others.  They  beat  their  own  breasts  because 
children  have  fallen,  victims  often  of  our  vicious 
social  conditions;  and  they  love  these  children  be 
cause  of  their  misfortune.  Out  of  very  natural 
curiosity,  I  asked  the  boys  if  any  of  them  were 
French.  One  little  fellow  raised  his  hand. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from?  "  I  asked. 

"  From  Vincennes." 

"And  I,  from  Fontenay-sous-Bois,"  I  replied; 
whereupon  we  shook  hands  in  token  of  neighbour- 
liness. 

These  Quakers  are  fine  people.  Their  stern  dis 
regard  of  formulas  and  conventions,  and  their  na 
tive  and  benevolent  simplicity  won  my  heart.  I 
recompensed  my  hosts  for  the  many  spiritual  bene 
fits  procured  by  their  fraternal  society  and  the  sight 
of  their  vigorous  activity,  by  appropriating,  with  the 


A   QUAKER    REFORMATORY        195 

simple  formality  of  pocketing  it,  an  attractive  in 
scription  that  was  fastened  to  the  wall  in  the  super 
intendent's  office.  And  what  was  it?  A  "creed" 
whose  perusal  had  moved  me  even  to  tears.  "  The 
school  teachers'  creed/'  it  is  called,  and  it  begins 
thus:  "  I  believe  in  boys  and  girls."  Here  we  have 
it,  that  faith  in  man,  without  which  all  our  faith 
crumbles  to  pessimism  and  dust.  If  you  distrust 
man  and  his  works ;  if  you  have  no  faith  in  the  hus 
bandry  of  this  world,  but  look  upon  the  present 
economy  as  an  enterprise  badly  begun,  destined  to 
failure,  and  to  be  indemnified  only  in  the  beyond, 
you  offer  an  injustice  to  God,  in  whom  you  profess 
to  believe,  and  whom  you  think  to  glorify  by  repu 
diating  man.  For  the  responsible  author  of  this 
present  world  is  He ;  His  honour  is  involved  before 
ours.  I  shall  never  restore  to  those  dear  Friends  the 
bit  of  pasteboard  I  purloined  from  them,  but  shall 
read  over  and  over  again  the  valiant  and  ringing 
school  teachers'  creed:  "  I  believe  in  boys  and 
girls." 


XXXI 

THE    BOWERY    MISSION 

ONE  day  I  called  upon  Mr.  Klopsch,  the 
devoted  editor  of  the  Christian  Herald, 
which  is  the  centre  of  so  much  active 
benevolence  and  so  many  efforts  for  the  betterment 
of  mankind.  "  Will  you  go  with  me  to  the  Bowery 
Mission  some  night?"  he  asked;  "you  would  en 
counter  there  the  most  pitiable  specimens  of  home 
less  men  the  city  can  show." 

An  engagement  was  immediately  made  for  Mon 
day  the  twenty-eighth  of  November,  and  toward 
eleven  o'clock  on  the  night  of  that  day,  Mr.  Klopsch 
appeared  at  the  club  where  I  had  been  passing  with 
friends  one  of  my  rare  free  evenings.  The  weather 
was  cold,  and  a  thin  fog  enveloped  the  town.  We 
drove  for  nearly  an  hour  to  reach  the  quarter  of 
the  East  Side  where  the  mission  is  situated. 

The  long,  narrow  room  was  closely  packed  with 
men.  On  the  platform,  where  an  organ  stood,  were 
a  number  of  people  connected  with  the  mission, 

among  them  an  old  lady  whose  life  is  wholly  de- 
IOC 


THE    BOWERY   MISSION          197 

voted  to  the  work.  It  was  now  midnight.  As  I  took 
my  place  in  the  centre  of  the  group,  I  noticed  in 
front  of  us  a  railing  intended  as  a  rest  for  the 
hands,  and  instantly  it  produced  upon  me  the  im 
pression  of  being  cited  before  the  bar  of  some  in 
visible  tribunal,  where  Misery  was  sitting,  attended 
by  a  very  "  court  of  miracles  " — a  muster  of  mis 
fortune  from  all  the  ends  of  the  earth.  I  sat  awhile 
in  a  sort  of  soul  stupor,  until  fortunately  the  organ 
began  to  play  and  the  people  to  sing. 

Then  I  could  observe  this  accumulation  of  the 
dregs  of  the  nations.  There  was  not  a  single  woman, 
but  every  man  bore  the  marks  of  defeat;  not  as 
though  routed  in  some  late  battle,  and  still  bewil 
dered  by  dreadful  visions  of  the  fight;  but  van 
quished  long  ago,  and  too  nearly  trampled  out  and 
annihilated  now,  to  remember.  Their  faces  repre 
sented  types  of  every  country,  at  the  same  time 
showing  each  of  them  to  be  a  man  without  a 
country.  At  the  sight,  involuntarily  one  questioned 
within  himself:  "  Italian,  German,  Frenchman,  of 
what  good  to  you  are  your  King,  your  Emperor, 
your  Republic  ? "  They  had  fallen  without  the 
meshes  that  enclose  the  prudent  among  their  fellow- 
countrymen,  into  the  great  drag-net  of  misfortune; 


198     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

and  there  they  lay,  victims  of  their  idleness,  their 
drunkenness,  their  want  of  character,  or  the  brutal 
circumstances  against  which  the  little  skiff  wherein 
they  had  embarked  their  life  was  shattered.  From 
my  place  I  made  them  personal  visits,  observing 
them  carefully,  one  by  one,  and  among  these  hun 
dreds  of  wrecks  of  men,  there  was  not  one  bad 
face.  There  was  diversity  under  the  sordid  uni 
formity  of  rags ;  here  were  bearded  men  and  smooth 
faced,  bald  men  and  hirsute,  and  a  disproportion 
ate  number  were  one-eyed.  By  how  many  different 
paths  had  their  lives,  once  fresh  and  full  of  hope, 
come  to  this  downfall,  this  demolition  that  was  con 
densing  and  confusing  them  in  a  dark  residue  at 
the  bottom  of  the  social  alembic?  They  seemed  to 
me  so  great  in  their  absolute  nothingness,  that  sud 
denly  the  whole  of  respectable  middle-class  exist 
ence  was  obscured  in  their  shadow,  and  some  in 
visible  hand  removed  from  me  all  the  store  upon 
which  a  man  ordinarily  draws  when  he  speaks  to 
his  fellows  who  have  a  bed  to  lie  on  and  a  table 
at  which  to  sit,  who  carry  about  them  that  passport 
called  money,  and  are  animated  by  the  breath  of 
that  soul  of  the  social  life — credit.  Out  of  sympathy, 
I  felt  myself  reduced  to  utter  helplessness,  to  a 


THE    BOWERY   MISSION  199 

humanity  stripped,  wounded,  and  miserable,  until  I 
became  their  equal.  And  when  I  rose  to  call  them 
"  brothers,"  I  saw  in  the  midst  of  them  the  spirit 
of  suffering  humanity,  the  Son  of  man,  who  had 
not  where  to  lay  his  head.  Never  was  I  more  deeply 
conscious  of  strength  from  the  power  to  speak  in 
his  name;  and  never  had  the  judgment,  at  once 
merciful  and  inexorable,  that  he  pronounced  upon 
our  vanities  and  the  hollowness  of  our  comfortable 
Christianity,  seemed  more  scathing.  That  night  I 
learned  one  of  those  lessons  that  fill  the  soul  with 
grief,  with  anguish. 

Had  these  men  any  knowledge  of  the  preter 
natural  effect  they  made  upon  me?  Evidently  not; 
but  they  listened  with  goodwill  to  what  I  said 
aloud,  as  I  had  listened  in  silence  to  their  silent 
speech.  Then  I  stepped  down  from  the  platform, 
and  begged  them  to  show  by  their  uplifted  hands 
who  among  them  spoke  English,  French,  or  Ger 
man,  the  only  languages  in  which  I  could  make 
myself  understood;  and  I  conversed  with  them  in 
dividually.  Their  short  biographies,  all  ending 
badly,  reminded  me  of  a  succession  of  evil  tidings, 
one  report  after  another  announcing  a  new  catas 
trophe.  Among  the  Frenchmen  with  whom  I  talked 


200     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

was  a  former  teacher  of  Marseilles,  not  yet  fifty 
years  old.  By  what  hazards  of  ill  fortune  had  he 
made  his  way  from  the  class-rooms  of  the  Normal 
School  to  this  place? 

As  the  hour  for  closing  approached,  cups  of 
coffee  were  passed  along  the  ranks,  and  there  was 
a  generous  distribution  of  bread  when  the  men  went 
out.  "  Where  will  they  sleep  ?  "  I  asked  myself,  as 
I  watched  the  dark  column  disperse  in  the  foggy 
night;  and  a  vision  of  them  pursued  me,  a  lamen 
table  and  distressful  vision,  holding  before  my  mind 
the  grievous  problem  of  human  vagabondage. 


XXXII 

LECTURES    AND    AUDIENCES 

IN  spite  of  our  utmost  precaution  we  are  con 
tinually  meeting  with  the  unexpected,  and  it 
is  sure  to  play  a  considerable  part  in  a  lecture 
tour.  From  twenty-five  or  thirty  addresses,  the  con 
servative  number  at  first  determined  upon  in  order 
to  avoid  overexertion,  we  had  soon  engaged  for 
twice  as  many;  and  by  the  middle  of  October,  even 
that  number  was  exceeded.  But  as  new  invitations 
continued  to  arrive  daily,  the  first  dates  soon  made 
no  more  than  an  outline,  and  into  the  time  yet  avail 
able  between  them,  engagements  of  minor  impor 
tance  were  gradually  slipped,  for  the  afternoon 
hours  and  even  for  mornings.  At  the  cost  of  a  strug 
gle,  renewed  with  every  incoming  mail,  the  great 
majority  of  these  requests  were  finally  eliminated; 
but  after  all  this  sifting,  the  columns  in  which  our 
itinerary  was  recorded  were  black  with  unavoidable 
engagements.  Sometimes,  in  the  midst  of  all  this 
pressure,  it  happened  that  two  lectures  got  booked 

for  the  same  hour,  and  then  it  was  necessary  to 
201 


MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

resort  to  a  sort  of  legerdemain,  in  order  to  satisfy 
everybody. 

But  all  labour  becomes  easy  through  the  satis 
faction  one  gets  out  of  it.  If  public  speaking  is 
one  of  the  most  dreadful  of  ordeals,  when  a  luke 
warm  audience  must  be  faced,  or  a  hostile  one  has 
to  be  opposed,  it  is,  on  the  contrary,  an  unparalleled 
joy  to  meet  audiences  that  are  sympathetic  and 
responsive;  America  offered  so  many  of  these,  and 
with  such  regularity,  that  each  opportunity  for  ad 
dressing  them  was  a  new  delight. 

First  let  us  speak  of  those  club  meetings  which 
are  almost  family  parties.  All  the  men's  clubs  have 
"  ladies'  nights,"  when  the  members  may  bring 
their  wives  and  grown-up  children  with  them. 
These  are  private  occasions,  and  marked  by  much 
sociability.  Before  the  lecture,  there  is  general  con 
versation,  and  if  the  speaker  of  the  evening  arrives 
in  time,  he  makes  the  acquaintance  of  those  who 
are  about  to  be  his  listeners.  After  the  lecture, 
questions  are  asked,  and  the  evening  ends  with  re 
freshments.  Under  such  conditions,  you  gather  in 
a  single  hour  a  quantity  of  information  and  im 
pressions,  and  the  perfect  cordiality  on  all  sides 
gives  these  meetings  a  charm  no  one  could  resist. 


LECTURES    AND   AUDIENCES       203 

In  a  church,  a  theatre  or  a  public  hall,  the  en 
larged  and  different  setting  forbids  such  famil 
iarity  as  this,  yet  your  auditors  may  encourage 
you,  and  render  your  task  easy.  The  reception 
alone,  though  it  be  a  silent  one,  that  a  friendly 
house  gives  you,  is  like  a  welcome  and  an  invitation 
to  feel  yourself  at  home.  How  many  things  the 
faces  of  an  assembled  audience  may  say  to  the 
stranger  appearing  before  them!  I  never  tired  of 
looking  out  over  American  audiences  during  that 
moment  preceding  the  lecture  in  which  the  chair 
man  of  the  evening  introduces  the  orator,  and  the 
listeners,  while  giving  heed  to  what  he  says,  have 
their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  guest  who  is  to  follow 
him.  The  smiling  and  paternal  countenances  of  old 
men,  the  self-contained  and  serious  faces  of  mid 
dle  age,  and  the  alert  attitude  of  the  younger  peo 
ple — how  many  silent  and  significant  intimations 
they  give  in  that  moment !  I  found  an  air  of  good 
will,  sincerity,  and  manly  right-mindedness  about 
American  audiences,  and  they  have  left  with  me  an 
impression  of  ranks  upon  ranks  of  fine  people. 

But  it  was  in  the  schools  and  universities,  before 
audiences  made  up  almost  exclusively  of  young 
people,  that  a  veritable  revelation  awaited  me.  I 


204     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

have  always  loved  youth,,  and  it  is  my  hope  to  love, 
understand  and  serve  it  better  year  by  year.  The 
young  people  of  my  own  land  have  given  me  bounti 
ful  affection  and  grateful  and  confiding  tenderness ; 
but  across  the  sea  I  made  a  new  experience,  under 
different  circumstances,,  and  I  was  happy  to  find 
that  by  a  sort  of  wireless  telegraphy  I  came  in 
stantly  into  relation  with  these  young  and  respon 
sive  audiences.  I  shall  always  see  them — at  Oberlin, 
Vassar,  Mount  Holyoke,  Boston,  Chicago,  Phila 
delphia,  New  York,  Lafayette,  and  everywhere 
else,  always  equally  attentive  and  earnest. 

One  thing  that  struck  me  in  all  gatherings  of 
Americans,  of  whatever  age,  and  in  all  encounters 
with  individuals,  was  the  fact  that  true  Americans 
are  not  given  to  blague — to  lying  "  for  the  fun  of 
it."  This  strain,  which  is  indulged  a  little  too  freely 
among  us,  and  in  some  cases  so  habitually  as  to 
become  monotonous,  is  not  found  among  them.  Not 
that  they  are  averse  to  laughter  —  quite  the  con 
trary!  They  are  marked  by  a  love  of  it  that  is 
youthful  and  healthful,  and  are  quick  to  seize  upon 
every  humourous  turn  of  thought  and  emphasise  it 
by  a  discreet  smile  or  a  hilarious  outburst ;  but  while 
they  laugh,  they  remain  sincere. 


LECTURES    AND    AUDIENCES       205 

The  twenty-seventh  of  November,  a  Sunday  I 
shall  always  remember  as  having  brought  me  into 
contact  with  more  than  ten  thousand  auditors,  I  saw 
rmong  other  things,  this  marvellous  sight.  Under 
the  auspices  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa 
tion,  whose  splendid  work  has  made  its  way  into 
every  quarter  of  the  earth,  a  mass-meeting  had  been 
arranged  for  the  afternoon,  in  the  Metropolitan 
Opera  House  of  New  York.  There  I  was  confronted 
by  three  thousand  men,  who,  for  the  most  part 
clean-shaven,  gave  a  splendid  impression  of  ruddy 
health.  Their  fixed  attention,  given  me  in  advance, 
was  a  revelation  of  concentrated  strength ;  it  was  like 
a  rampart  of  resolute  wills.  I  felt  as  though  I  were 
before  a  company  ready  for  battle,  whose  inflexible 
courage  needed  only  to  be  aroused  by  some  ringing 
appeal.  Such  an  audience  transports  and  inspires 
the  one  who  is  to  address  it,  and  he  gives  himself  to 
it,  whole-hearted,  fired  with  the  will  to  sow  his  life 
broadcast  there,  if  need  be:  it  would  fall  upon 
ground  worthy  of  the  best  seed !  But  when  a  man 
comes  into  contact  with  such  generous  natures,  he 
receives  more  than  he  gives,  and  goes  away  not  im 
poverished,  but  enriched  with  moral  force. 

At  the  close  of  these  lectures,  a  part  of  the  au- 


206     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

dience  always  comes  forward;  it  is  the  time  for 
the  shaking  of  hands  and  other  demonstrations  of 
brotherhood.  One  evening,,  in  a  great  college  where 
thousands  of  young  women  pursue  their  studies,  I 
saw  the  whole  body  of  them  pass  before  me  in  this 
way.  Seated  at  ease,  I  grasped  the  hand  of  each  of 
these  studious  children — dear  hope  of  their  mother- 
country — and  I  had  leisure  to  observe  their  faces, 
their  different  types,  and  whatever  else  may  be  re 
vealed  at  a  glance.  There  were  few  among  them  who 
did  not  appear  robust;  the  very  great  number,  vig 
orous,  self-reliant  and  smiling,  were  a  pleasure  to 
behold,  with  their  air  of  splendid  health,  that  ac 
cords  so  well  with  the  grace  of  twenty  years.  And  I 
thought  of  their  parents,  of  all  the  riches  of  tender 
ness  poured  out  upon  them,  and  of  the  great  Repub 
lic  in  which  they  were  to  take  their  places  as  wives 
and  mothers.  I  got  into  personal  touch  with  each  one, 
learning  from  a  word  in  passing,  things  good  and 
gracious — the  things  that  make  humanity  lovable. 

So  you  see  how  it  was  that  a  tour  comprehending 
a  hundred  and  fifty  lectures,  sermons,  and  ad 
dresses  of  all  sorts,  numerous  social  functions  and 
thousands  of  miles  of  travel,  could  leave  behind  it 
the  impression  of  a  pleasure  trip. 


XXXIII 

A    LESSON    CARRIED    FROM    THE 
BLIND    TO    THOSE    WHO    SEE 

ON  the  twenty-third  of  November,  in  the 
early  hours  of  the  morning,  I  arrived  at 
Overbrook  Asylum,  near  Philadelphia, 
which  shelters  a  great  number  of  blind  people  of 
all  ages.  It  was  the  morning  following  my  second 
day  at  Washington,  a  very  busy  day,  whose  fatigue 
had  been  dispelled  by  a  night  in  the  sleeping-car. 

The  white  walls  of  Overbrook  shone  from  afar, 
as  we  made  our  way  across  the  country  in  the  face 
of  a  gentle  and  invigorating  breeze.  We  were  not 
long  in  reaching  the  home,  which  we  visited  in 
detail,  and  I  mused  upon  the  fact  that  by  a  single 
glance  into  the  rooms  and  courts  I  was  seeing  more 
of  them  than  their  inhabitants  would  ever  see. 

Our  inspection  ended  in  the  great  auditorium — 
such  a  one  as  is  found  in  every  American  institution 
— where  all  the  inmates  of  the  home  were  then 
assembled,  young  and  old,  of  both  sexes,  a  very 

large  number  of  them  being  children.  Mrs.  \Vood, 
207 


208     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

the  devoted  wife  of  the  blind  organist,  sang  Men 
delssohn's  "  Lobgesang "  magnificently,  and  her 
husband  played  some  organ  music.  During  the  mo 
ment's  silence  at  the  beginning,  I  had  been  im 
pressed  and  saddened  by  the  pall  of  night  over  all 
these  faces — of  men,  women  and  children.  Some  of 
them  wore  dark  glasses  to  protect  and  hide  their 
poor  eyes  incapable  of  seeing,  but  not  of  suffering ; 
in  other  cases  the  great,  hollow  vacancies  seemed 
like  denuded  hearths,  inhabited  by  nothing  but  re 
gret  for  the  lost  fire.  But  with  the  first  outburst  of 
music,  this  darkness  was  everywhere  pierced  by  a 
light  which  was  a  revelation  of  happiness. 

After  the  solos,  everybody  rose  to  join  in  a 
chorus,  with  Mr.  Wood  as  conductor;  not  a  hack 
neyed,  commonplace  thing,  but  a  splendid  ensem 
ble,  demanding  long  and  skilful  preparation.  As  I 
listened  I  observed  attentively  the  sight  before  me, 
and  I  saw  that  the  singers  were  entirely  absorbed 
in  their  song.  They  revelled  in  the  harmony,  as 
though  it  were  light.  Now  they  saw ! 

When  they  had  finished  singing,  we  spoke  to 
them,  and  it  is  a  very  peculiar  experience  for  a  man 
accustomed  to  express  himself  with  the  aid  of  ges 
ture  and  facial  play,  to  address  an  audience  for 


A   LESSON   FROM   THE    BLIND       209 

whom  nothing  of  his  discourse  exists  at  all  except 
what  can  be  heard;  he  must  seek  to  put  all  that  he 
feels  into  the  one  means  of  expression  to  which  he 
finds  himself  reduced. 

But  I  had  yet  to  learn,  in  this  place  and  during 
this  same  hour,  that  there  are  cases  of  much  greater 
isolation  than  that  of  the  blind.  While  the  music  was 
going  on,  I  had  already  noticed  in  the  front  row 
a  very  little  boy  who  remained  seated  when  the 
others  rose,  and  seemed  to  have  no  part  in  anything 
— neither  the  addresses  and  stories  nor  the  music; 
his  attitude  was  that  of  a  being  overwhelmed  by 
some  superhuman  evil.  Mr.  Wanamaker,  whom  I  had 
seen  sit  down  by  the  child  a  moment  and  caress  him, 
explained  to  me  that  the  poor  little  fellow  was  not 
only  blind  but  a  deaf-mute  as  well ;  so  all  that  was 
happening  was  hidden  from  him.  He  seemed  the 
prisoner  of  a  sort  of  Fatality — like  the  mute  fig 
ures  one  finds  in  the  dramas  of  ^Eschylus,  as  though 
witnessing  to  some  tremendous  and  unvoiced  dis 
aster. 

This  pitiful  little  being,  bowed  under  his  host  of 
infirmities,  wrung  my  heart.  Any  outcry  was  to  him 
nothing  at  all;  every  visible  sign  would  be  power 
less  before  him.  So  while  the  others  were  speaking, 


210      MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

I  sat  down  beside  him,  and  let  him  feel,  very  gently, 
that  some  one  was  there.  He  crept  nearer,,  nestling 
against  me,  and  I  drew  his  head  to  my  heart,  ran 
my  hands  through  his  hair,  and  stroked  his  cheeks. 
His  sad  face  began  to  clear;  it  was  evident  that 
there  in  his  dark  cell,  shut  in  by  the  triple  wall  of 
blindness,  deafness  and  dumbness,  the  child  was 
taking  interest  in  my  visit.  Then  an  idea  entered 
my  head.  What  if  I  should  tell  him  a  story !  I  took 
his  hands,  and  grasped  first  his  thumb,  and  then 
the  fingers,  one  by  one,  raising  them,  lowering  them, 
bending  them  together,  tapping  them,  blowing  on 
them,  treating  them  as  piano  keys  to  be  played  on, 
and  resorting  to  a  series  of  manipulations  that 
finally  made  my  poor  little  youngster  laugh  out 
right.  And  as  seeing  children,  at  the  end  of  one 
story  ask  for  another,  so  he  stretched  out  his  hands 
for  me  to  begin  again  to  play  with  them,  and  make 
a  different  story  for  him.  We  had  a  long  conversa 
tion  in  this  improvised  Volapiik,  and  certainly  we 
parted  friends. 

Great  misfortunes  are  great  mysteries ;  I  counsel 
no  one  to  try  to  explain  them,  for  some  aspect  of 
their  immensity  always  escapes  us.  But  misfortune 
says  to  us :  "  Be  kind !  "  In  presence  of  the  defects 


A  LESSON   FROM   THE    BLIND      211 

and  deficiencies  of  life,  as  we  see  them  in  these 
poor  cramped  and  mutilated  existences,  the  man 
who  does  not  feel  an  ardent  desire  to  contribute 
toward  paying  the  enormous  debt  of  misfortune,  is 
not  a  man.  If  we  understood  the  speech  of  wounded 
and  suffering  humanity,  we  should  turn  from  our 
evil  ways,  and  the  divine  pity  we  should  feel  would 
cleanse  us  from  all  impurity.  The  only  right  and 
humane  conclusion  to  draw  from  the  most  fearful 
calamities,  is  always  the  same;  humanity,  not  yet 
out  of  its  darkness  or  twilights,  has  half  discerned 
it;  the  Gospel  taught  no  other.  What  shall  we 
do,  in  the  face  of  these  mountains  of  suffering? 
We  must  love. 

I  left  Overbrook  with  two  images  in  my  heart, 
one  of  the  little  boy,  deaf,  dumb,  and  blind;  the 
other  of  the  great  messenger  of  inexhaustible  Pity, 
who  said:  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and 
are  heavy  laden."  To  what  child  crowned  with 
golden  curls  and  fresh  delights,  would  He  have  said 
with  more  sweetness  than  to  this  poor  little  crushed 
being:  "  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto 

me." 

•*  *  •*  *  * 

Two  hours  later,  by  one  of  those  coincidences  that 


MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

strike  the  mind  as  the  flint  does  the  rock,  I  found 
myself  in  Arch  Street,  Philadelphia,  before  more 
than  a  thousand  children  that  the  Friends  had 
brought  together  to  hear  me.  In  anticipation  of  the 
event,  I  had  prepared  an  address,  but  to  give  it  at 
that  moment  would  have  been  impossible.  I  left  it 
in  the  depths  of  my  pocket,  and,  very  simply,  the 
method  of  the  Friends  imposed  itself  upon  me: — 
Speak  as  your  heart  moves  you;  proclaim  to  others 
what  the  Spirit  says  to  you  in  secret. 

Had  I  not  here  before  me  the  most  precious  of 
all  the  city's  treasure  ?  The  body  of  the  great  house, 
the  galleries,  and  every  niche  and  corner  were  liter 
ally  overflowing  with  children — sturdy  and  smiling 
boys,  charming  little  girls.  What  a  fund  of  life  and 
hope !  What  a  sowing  of  energy !  I  had  come  out  of 
night  into  the  day.  Oh,  how  the  light  of  these  great 
open  eyes — children's  eyes,  whose  beauty  neither 
the  smile  of  the  flowers  nor  the  starlight  equals — 
how  all  this  wealth  of  light  recalled  the  pitiful 
darkness  I  had  just  left!  Simply  and  directly  I 
told  them  of  what  was  oppressing  me,  thinking 
that  this  hard  lesson  from  life  would  be  good  for 
them. 

"  You  see  here,"  I  said,  "  a  man  who  has  just 


A   LESSON   FROM   THE    BLIND       213 

come  from  visiting  a  crowd  of  blind  children.  They 
did  not  see  him.  Neither  the  roses  in  their  garden, 
nor  the  golden  shimmer  of  autumn  forests,  nor  the 
blue  of  the  sky,  nor  their  mother's  smile,  exists 
for  them.  If  every  day  an  eye  were  loaned  them 
for  an  hour,  they  would  use  it  so  well,  that  they 
would  lay  up  a  store  of  pictures  for  the  hours  of 
darkness. 

All  of  you  here  have  eyes  the  whole  day  long; 
what  do  you  do  with  them  ?  Do  you  even  know  how 
you  should  use  them?  Do  you  know  how  to  look  at 
things  with  them  ?  The  world  is  an  open  book  under 
your  eyes;  do  you  read  in  it?  What  does  the  ant 
say  to  you,  as  it  runs  about  in  the  sunshine  among 
the  glistening  grains  of  sand  ?  What  does  the  silvery 
moonlight  say,  falling  at  night  on  your  pillow  be 
fore  you  close  your  eyes  to  sleep?  Do  you  under 
stand  the  stories  written  in  people's  faces?  Have 
your  eyes  learned  to  smile  and  to  console  those  who 
weep  ? 

Do  your  eyes  look  straight  into  other  people's 
eyes?  Can  people  see  your  thoughts  in  them,  as 
they  see  the  golden  pebbles  at  the  bottom  of  a  crys 
tal  spring,  or  do  you  drop  them,  ashamed  of  the 
thoughts  they  might  reveal?  Have  you  a  coward's 


214     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

eyes,  afraid  in  danger,  or  are  they  able  to  face  it, 
unflinching  and  undisturbed  ?  " 

So  it  was  that  by  a  simple  effect  of  human  soli 
darity,  some  blind  children  had  furnished  food  for 
thought  to  children  who  could  see. 


XXXIV 

HOMES    AND    HOSPITALITY 

AMERICA    does    an   enormous    amount   of 
building,    but    of    all   that    she    builds    I 
prefer    the    suburban    houses    of    wood, 
with    their    graceful    outlines    and    their    infinite 
variety.  These  are  the  American  homes;  they  are 
to  be   found  within  the  reach  of  all  purses,  and 
their  number  is  past  calculation. 

In  spite  of  the  herculean  difficulties  that  the 
growth  of  monster  cities  puts  in  the  way,  the  city 
folk  make  a  desperate  struggle  for  private  homes. 
Everywhere,  even  in  the  most  populous  centres,  as 
soon  as  you  get  outside  of  certain  districts  the  roofs 
begin  to  lower,  and  the  great  apartment-houses  are 
replaced  by  dwellings  designed  for  not  more  than 
two  families,  while  interminable  streets  are  filled 
with  houses  almost  identical,  standing  wing  to  wing, 
that  have  been  built  for  individual  homes. 

Beyond  the  region  of  these  streets  where  the 
houses  press  upon  one  another  like  the  cells  of  a 

hive,  comes  the  open  region  of  detached  homes  sur- 
215 


216     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

rounded  by  lawns  and  trees.  To  enter  here,  you  go 
up  a  flight  of  five  or  six  steps,  so  that  there  are 
lighted  basements,  and  in  them  are  the  kitchen,  the 
heating  apparatus,  and  the  cellar.  The  ground  floor 
is  encircled  by  a  covered  veranda,  overgrown  and 
beautified  by  ivy,  roses,  clematis,  or  other  climbing 
plants,  that  is  popularly  called  "  the  porch,"  and  in 
summer  is  the  chosen  spot  of  the  domicile.  There 
is  no  attractive  and  comfortable  guise  that  these 
"  porches  "  do  not  assume,  as  is  true  with  regard  to 
the  whole  exterior  of  the  houses,  which  resemble 
one  another  little,  however,  though  a  certain  cachet 
marks  them  all.  At  first  sight  the  American  dwell 
ing  is  distinguished  from  ours  by  less  of  symmetry 
and  more  of  variety. 

Upon  penetrating  the  interior,  you  find  all  the 
rooms  of  the  ground  floor  opening  into  a  hall,  from 
which  the  staircase  mounts.  The  doors  are  a  negli 
gible  feature,  and  often  wanting  altogether.  On  this 
floor  are  one  or  two  reception-rooms,  usually  very 
simple,  a  library,  and  a  dining-room.  In  the  living- 
rooms,  besides  rocking-chairs  and  other  comfort 
able  seats,  there  are  window-seats  running  around 
the  bay-windows,  and  you  feel  yourself  drawn  to 
ward  the  bright  and  cozy  corners  they  make.  On 


HOMES    AND    HOSPITALITY      217 

the  walls  are  numbers  of  engravings,  many  of  them 
representing  the  monuments  of  Europe  or  pictures 
by  the  great  masters.  Mounting  again,  you  find 
sleeping-rooms  and  bath-rooms.  The  sleeping-rooms 
are  distinguished  by  the  absence  of  carpets  and 
hangings,  carpets  being  the  exception,  and  mattings 
or  rugs  the  rule.  The  beds  have  no  curtains,  and 
the  windows,  which  are  large,  have  blinds  or  roller 
shades,  with  dainty  muslin  curtains  in  place  of  the 
heavy  hangings  we  use  in  France.  Often  a  fine  wire 
gauze  is  so  arranged  as  to  allow  the  window  to  be 
opened  without  risk  of  mosquitoes  entering;  for 
of  flies,  and  mosquitoes,  and  all  winged  and  hum 
ming  and  whirring  insects,  America  has  a  prodigi 
ous  quantity.  On  beautiful  summer  evenings,  count 
less  beetles  fly  about,  and  the  song  of  the  crickets 
is  truly  meridional. 

An  American  sleeping-room  is  designed  with  the 
special  purpose  of  avoiding  dust  and  close  air,  and 
once  you  have  learned  how  to  manage  the  windows 
and  their  fastenings,  you  can  regulate  the  ventila 
tion  at  will.  There  are  few  gimcracks  about,  if  any, 
and  all  the  surfaces  are  smooth  and  easily  dusted. 
The  heating  arrangements  of  these  houses  are  per 
fect  ;  but  in  general,  throughout  the  country,  homes, 


218     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

schools,  public  halls,  railway  trains — all  are  heated 
too  much. 

The  beds  are  luxurious.  It  seems  to  me  that  I 
slept  in  the  same  one  all  the  time  I  was  in  America, 
so  alike  are  they  in  appearance  and  comfort.  The 
bedsteads  are  usually  of  iron  or  brass,  and  often 
elegant  in  shape.  The  spring  mattress  has  disap 
peared,  and  is  advantageously  replaced  by  woven 
wire  "  springs,"  such  as  our  new  schools  and  hospi 
tals  are  beginning  to  use,  and  hair  or  felt  mattresses 
of  the  finest  quality;  America  not  only  knows  how 
to  work,  she  also  knows  how  to  provide  for  rest  and 
cultivate  the  science  of  sleep.  Look  at  the  bill 
boards,  open  the  magazines  at  the  advertising  sec 
tions,  which  occupy  a  good  half  of  them,  and  you 
will  see  all  sorts  of  mattresses  constructed  with  the 
greatest  ingenuity — mattresses  in  two  or  three 
pieces ;  mattresses  of  five  or  six  layers  superim 
posed,  and  possessing  the  exact  proportion  of  elas 
ticity  to  firmness  that  makes  a  good  bed.  For 
workers,  good  sleep  is  so  important,  that  too  much 
attention  cannot  be  given  to  the  place  where  they 
rest  their  heads  wearied  by  thought,  and  their  limbs 
wearied  by  motion. 

Every    American    home   has    a    bath-room,   and 


HOMES    AND    HOSPITALITY       219 

many  of  them  have  more  than  one ;  indeed,  the  bath 
room,  epitome  of  all  the  comforts  of  the  toilet,  is 
a  national  institution.  Among  those  who  know  the 
influence  of  the  care  of  the  skin  upon  health,  the 
nervous  system,  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  and  all 
the  organic  functions  of  the  body,  the  luxury  of  the 
bath-room  ought  to  be  counted  one  of  the  necessi 
ties  of  life.  It  is  at  once  so  hygienic  and  so  agree 
able,  that  it  could  not  be  too  highly  praised  or  rec 
ommended.  The  bath-room  is  certainly  one  source 
of  the  blooming  appearance  of  hosts  of  Americans, 
and  care  of  the  person  is  a  matter  of  universal  con 
cern.  Nowhere  else  are  so  many  kinds  of  soaps, 
powders,  and  creams,  recommended  and  used,  and 
nothing  is  more  amusing  than  to  read  the  adver 
tisements  of  these  articles,  or  to  watch  a  first-rate 
barber  at  his  work;  when  this  capillary  artist  has 
shaved  his  client,  he  proceeds  to  manipulate  the 
face  so  skilfully  and  conscientiously  that  you  would 
say  you  were  witnessing  an  embalmment !  It  is  im 
possible  to  look  out  of  a  train  window  anywhere 
without  seeing  the  life-size  portrait  of  the  inventor 
of  a  certain  talcum  powder,  and  judging  by  the 
fabulous  sum  of  money  such  an  amount  of  adver 
tising  suggests,  you  may  calculate  the  extent  of  the 


220     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

sales.  "  How  shall  we  have  red  cheeks  ?  "  is  a  ques 
tion  replied  to  by  numerous  ingenious  recipes.  Such 
information  as  this  will  perhaps  amuse  certain  of 
my  countrywomen  who  drink  vinegar  in  order  to 
make  themselves  pale ;  but  it  is  not  possible  to  take 
too  good  care  of  our  health  and  strength.  We  have 
enough  colourless  faces,  and  aesthetics  apart,  I  think 
I  make  no  ill  wish  for  the  young  people  of  my 
native  land,  when  I  ask  for  them  a  fresh  colour  and 
rosy  cheeks. 

Nothing  interests  me  more  than  the  indoor  life  of 
the  home  and  housework,  so  wherever  I  went  I 
asked  to  visit  kitchens.  The  kitchen  is  a  social  in 
stitution  of  the  first  rank;  the  future  of  nations  is 
simmering  there,  and  when  women  no  longer  in 
terest  themselves  in  cookery,  the  end  of  the  world 
will  have  come.  People  had  told  me  (what  won't 
they  tell  you!)  that  American  women  were  frivo 
lous,  that  their  husbands  idolised  them  and  treated 
them  like  dolls,  toiling  all  day  to  provide  them  with 
beautiful  clothes  and  insure  them  a  life  of  idleness. 
A  serious  gentleman,  monocle  in  eye,  had  also  told 
me  that  there  is  no  family  life  in  America,  that 
everybody  lives  in  boarding-houses;  so  he  had  read 
in  a  book  on  the  country.  In  order  to  ascertain  the 


HOMES    AND    HOSPITALITY       221 

truth  for  myself,  I  must  needs  be  received  as  a 
friend,  in  private  houses,  and  this  was  my  good 
fortune  during  almost  the  entire  visit.  My  old- 
time  and  ardent  conviction  in  favor  of  family  life 
also  made  it  a  duty  to  interest  myself  in  the  homes 
that  offered  me  their  kind  hospitality.  So  we  talked 
of  everything  pertaining  to  them,  including  kitchen 
affairs,  and  it  was  with  pleasure  that  the  ladies 
made  me  acquainted  with  their  culinary  laborato 
ries,  so  important  in  the  household  economy,  and 
explained  to  me  the  part  they  played  in  them.  One 
day,  in  company  with  Dr.  McCook,  the  learned 
scholar,  and  a  writer  of  admirable  books  on  ants  and 
spiders,  I  made  irruption  into  the  kitchen  at  a  mo 
ment  when  all  the  feminine  portion  of  the  house 
hold  was  busy  making  pickles  and  jam!  I  was  per 
mitted  to  taste  of  these  products,  and  carried  some 
precious  recipes  away  with  me.  Meanwhile  the  Doc 
tor  had  maliciously  photographed  me  in  the  midst 
of  pots  and  pans,  lending  an  attentive  ear  to  culi 
nary  dogma. 

The  fact  is,  that  the  very  great  majority  of 
American  women  look  after  their  homes  with  care 
and  love.  It  is  more  and  more  difficult  to  get  serv 
ants,  so  that  it  is  necessary  to  be  well  informed 


222     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

one's  self,  and  ready  to  put  one's  hands  into  the 
dough.  And  this  is  what  these  ladies  know  how  to 
do  with  the  best  grace  in  the  world.  I  always  found 
a  hearty  echo  wherever  I  treated  these  subjects  in 
public — subjects  of  minor  importance  in  the  eyes  of 
the  superficial  only. 

The  American  woman  receives  a  different  educa 
tion  from  ours,  an  education  suited  from  childhood 
to  a  greater  share  of  freedom,  and  many  more  ca 
reers  are  open  to  her  than  to  Frenchwomen.  It  is 
true  that  she  hasn't  the  political  franchise  as  yet, 
but  she  takes  so  large  a  part  in  life,  and  fills  so 
many  offices,  that  she  has  long  ago  formed  the  habit 
of  being  a  somebody  and  her  own  mistress.  So  the 
number  of  women  who  do  not  look  forward  to  mar 
riage  as  the  determination  of  their  destiny,  is  more 
considerable  than  among  us.  It  is  also  easier  to  find 
here  than  in  the  old  world,  women  who  are  such 
pronounced  feminists  as  to  look  upon  themselves  as 
the  rivals  and  adversaries  of  men,  rather  than  their 
allies.  But  these  exceptions  confirm  the  rule;  and 
the  rule  is  that  American  women  are  graciously  and 
truly  womanly.  Perhaps  in  the  normal  and  usual 
marriage,  the  women  are  wives  above  all,  mothers 
afterward;  while  with  us,  as  soon  as  there  are  chil- 


HOMES    AND    HOSPITALITY       223 

dren,  maternity  becomes  the  stronger  tie,  and  par 
ents  put  their  children  first  in  their  affections.  But 
it  is  to  the  children's  interest  not  to  hold  the  first 
place,  and  to  inspire  them  with  a  too  high  idea 
of  themselves  compromises  their  future.  Is  it  not 
logical  and  salutary  for  the  parents  to  put  affection 
for  each  other  first,  and  affection  for  their  children 
second  ?  It  is  the  natural  order,  and  that  is  never  to 
be  reversed  with  impunity. 

•*  *  *  #  # 

The  spirit  of  a  home  is  best  shown  in  its  manner 
of  exercising  hospitality.  To  be  kind  to  our  own 
flesh  and  blood  is  an  excellent  thing,  but  true  kind 
ness  always  reaches  beyond  the  bounds  of  our  per 
sonal  life  and  the  limits  of  our  family  relationships. 
It  is  warm  and  expansive.  I  find  great  pleasure  in 
giving  expression  here  to  all  the  cherished  joy  and 
satisfaction  of  heart  that  came  to  me  in  these  Amer 
ican  homes  into  which  I  entered  for  the  first  time. 
Hospitality  had  manifested  itself  in  advance  by  the 
cordiality  of  the  invitations,  and  I  had  formed  a 
resolution  to  accept  in  each  city  the  first  that  was 
offered  me.  This  plan  greatly  facilitated  matters, 
and  permitted  me,  without  the  embarrassment  of  a 
choice,  to  be  the  guest  of  homes  the  most  varied 


224     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

from  the  standpoint  of  ideas,  social  station  and  oc 
cupations  represented.  But  the  cordiality  was  every 
where  the  same. 

To  begin  with,  when  we  alighted  from  the  train, 
there  was  always  our  cordial  host  waiting  to  dis 
cover  us  among  the  crowd,  and  conduct  us  to  his 
home.  Arrived  there,  we  would  find  the  whole  fam 
ily  in  array  to  meet  us,  the  little  girls  in  gala  dress 
with  knots  of  ribbon  in  their  hair,  the  older  mem 
bers  of  the  household  with  hands  outstretched  to 
greet  us.  There  was  never  any  ice  to  break.  And 
when  we  found  ourselves  at  table  and  I  looked 
around  at  all  the  faces,  old  and  young  together, 
the  same  question  invariably  rose  in  my  mind: — 
"  Where  have  I  seen  these  people  before?  "  They 
appeared  to  me  so  familiar,  that  I  seemed  not  to  be 
seeing  them  for  the  first  time,  but  to  be  meeting 
them  once  more  after  a  separation.  And  I  recalled 
the  kind  letters  that  had  reached  me  in  France 
months  earlier,  in  which  people  unknown  to  me  had 
said,  "  You  are  not  coming  among  strangers,  but 
among  brothers."  From  Washington  to  Chicago, 
from  Boston  to  Indianapolis,  the  greater  the  change, 
the  more  was  this  true.  And  yet  to  practise  hospi 
tality  under  the  circumstances  was  no  sinecure.  It 


HOMES    AND    HOSPITALITY       225 

meant  open  house  to  a  crowd  of  callers  and  jour 
nalists,  as  well  as  a  heavy  correspondence  and  fre 
quent  interruptions  from  the  telephone.*  All  these 
inconveniences,  great  and  small,  were  met  with  the 
utmost  cheerfulness,  and  moreover,  each  host  con 
trived  to  entertain  in  his  home  those  friends  whom  I 
might  have  pleasure  or  interest  in  meeting. 

This  hospitality  reminded  me  of  all  the  beautiful 
things  we  read  of  the  hospitality  of  the  East,  and  of 
the  tents  of  Abraham;  I  have  never  experienced 
the  brotherhood  of  man  under  a  more  gracious 
guise.  Esteeming  sympathy  and  affection  above  all 
else  that  a  man  may  receive  from  his  fellows  or  give 
to  them,  I  felt  my  measure  full  and  running  over 
with  this  which  I  hold  most  precious  in  the  world,  as 
I  circulated  about  in  this  great  country,  like  a  drop 
of  blood  in  the  heart. 

How  many  young  men  and  women  who  had  read 
my  books,  came  to  me  as  to  an  elder  brother !  And 
we  talked  together  of  the  things  that  do  not  pass 
away,  that  nourish  the  soul  and  strengthen  man's 
hope. 

*  I  am  thinking  especially  of  the  homes  in  which  I  passed 
whole  weeks,  as  that  of  Miss  Louise  Sullivan  in  New  York, 
C.  F.  Dole  in  Boston,  and  Jenkin  Lloyd  Jones  in  Chicago. 


226     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

Often  have  I  toiled  and  struggled  in  behalf  of 
the  ideas  I  defend,,  in  behalf  of  the  right  to  give 
new  form  to  old  truth;  but  what  is  this  toil,  which 
biassed  minds  force  upon  us,  in  comparison  with  the 
riches  of  these  recompenses  of  the  heart!  I  have 
long  enjoyed  them  in  my  own  country,  from  the 
great  sweetness  of  ties  with  fellow-citizens  com 
ing  from  all  the  horizons  of  thought;  now  I  was 
experiencing  the  same  emotions  heightened,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  sea,  in  the  midst  of  all  that  Amer 
ica  considers  most  catholic,  most  human,  and  most 
evangelical  in  the  unconfined  sense  of  this  splendid 

term. 

*  *  *  -x-  * 

All  these  joys  that  I  experienced,  remain  with 
me  to-day  in  a  wealth  of  remembrance,  and  it  gives 
me  a  deep  satisfaction  to  make  a  record  here  of 
hours  that  never  can  be  forgotten.  Perhaps,  too, 
the  friends  across  the  sea  will  find  in  these  lines  a 
token  from  the  heart,  that  the  limits  of  human  possi 
bilities  prevent  me  from  sending  them  individually. 


XXXV 

THE    AMERICAN    TEMPERAMENT 

I  SHALL  define  it  by  a  single  word :  it  is  youth 
ful.  Not  that  America  has  escaped  all  our 
tendencies  to  reversion,  not  but  what  she  has 
certain  defects  characteristic  of  age  and  destructive 
of  joy  and  strength;  but  she  has  taken  a  bath  in  a 
fountain  of  youth,  provided  by  the  very  conditions 
of  her  history,  and  by  that  unprecedented  develop 
ment  of  hers  which  is  a  perpetual  appeal  to  spon 
taneity  and  energy. 

The  feelings  of  youth  are  acute,  and  manifest 
ed  with  sincerity,  and  these  same  conditions  are 
quickly  perceived  when  one  comes  into  close  contact 
with  the  citizens  of  the  United  States.  If  they  are 
in  sympathy  with  you,  it  does  not  take  them  long  to 
show  it;  if  you  offend  them,  they  say  so  frankly. 

Such  plain-dealing  is  not  only  a  safeguard  for 
society,  it  is  a  source  of  security  and  good  feeling 
in  all  the  relations  of  life.  How  greatly  I  prefer 

it  to  manners  more  distinguished  in  appearance  and 

227 


228     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

more  pleasing,  but  often  without  sincerity  or  real 
kindness. 

Practical  joking,  sarcasm,  and  a  whole  train  of 
impulses  arising  out  of  what  is  unkind,  negative, 
and  caustic  in  man,  are  comparatively  rare;  a  sense 
of  humour  relegates  them  to  the  background,  and 
replaces  them  to  advantage.  Mockery  and  the  satiri 
cal  spirit  that  lives  brilliantly  upon  booty  snatched 
openly  from  the  resources  and  reputation  of  its 
neighbours,  play  no  prominent  role  in  the  literature, 
the  journalism,  or  the  daily  life  of  America.  When 
Americans  are  malicious,  they  are  frankly  and  bru 
tally  so. 

Like  youth,  again,  they  are  full  of  hope  and 
prompt  initiative;  but  they  join  to  these  buoyant 
and  impulsive  qualities  a  stock  of  endurance  and 
patient  wisdom.  Their  enthusiasms  have  to-mor 
rows  ;  it  is  even  rather  an  affectation  of  theirs  to  put 
through  anything  they  have  once  seriously  under 
taken,  except,  of  course,  when  they  are  convinced 
of  being  in  the  wrong.  To  have  blundered  is  not 
to  their  mind  a  reason  for  blundering  still,  nor  does 
one's  honour  demand  that  he  persist  in  error  once 
it  has  been  pointed  out  to  him. 

The  Americans  are  proud  of  their  country,  and 


AMERICAN    TEMPERAMENT       229 

without  dissimulation;  they  do  not  drop  their  eyes 
at  compliments.  One  of  the  first  questions  they  put 
to  a  newly  arrived  visitor  is :  "  How  do  you  like 
America  ?  "  and  they  ask  it  as  though  you  were  the 
first  foreigner  ever  to  have  landed  on  their  shores, 
and  listen  to  your  reply  with  the  attention  and  grav 
ity  of  men  who  have  never  before  heard  what  you 
say.  Are  not  these  noteworthy  signs  of  a  juvenile 
temperament,  exuberant  and  confiding,  responsive 
equally  to  praise  and  blame?  It  is  an  unalloyed 
pleasure  to  be  able  to  say  to  men  possessed  of  such 
open-heartedness,  all  the  good  things  you  think  of 
their  country  and  institutions.  But  if,  as  is  inev 
itable,  you  voice  a  criticism,  make  a  reservation, 
sound  a  warning,  then  the  most  remarkable  trait  of 
this  temperament  appears.  Your  words  are  listened 
to  with  a  conscientiousness  and  a  sincerity  full  of 
lessons  for  us  Frenchmen.  What  I  shall  call  "  the 
better  America,"  is  certainly  animated  by  the  most 
ardent  desire  to  recognise  the  national  faults  and 
imperfections,  in  order  to  set  about  their  correction. 
I  have  rarely  seen  such  manifest  pride  united  with 
such  true  humility.  To  me  the  modest  man  is  not 
he  who  repels  you  with  protesting  gestures,  and 
screens  his  face  when  you  offer  him  merited  praise ; 


230     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

but  he  who  accepts  the  praise,,  and  also  knows  how 
to  take  blame. 

In  this  sketch  of  the  American  temperament,  the 
element  of  compassion  must  not  be  forgotten — that 
pity  of  the  strong  for  the  weak  which  presents 
such  a  beautiful  contrast  to  aggressiveness.  I  could 
only  glance  rapidly  at  the  works  of  mercy  and  asy 
lums  for  suffering  and  old  age ;  but  even  in  passing 
one  catches  the  spirit  of  active  and  intelligent  ten 
derness  which  breathes  through  these  abodes  of  ill 
ness  and  weakness.  The  hands  of  these  people  are 
not  only  creative  of  prodigies  of  industrial  genius, 
they  are  also  compassionate  to  the  wounded  and  the 
defeated.  And  their  pity  extends  even  to  animals; 
during  all  my  travels  in  America,  I  did  not  once  see 
a  horse  ill-treated. 

Another  sign  of  youth  in  the  Americans,  is  the 
fact  that  they  are  fond  of  simple  diversions.  Youth 
does  not  require  an  expensive  equipment  or  elab 
orate  preparations  in  order  to  be  gay.  Hunger  is  the 
best  sauce,  and  a  certain  personal  capacity  for  being 
happy  is  the  best  condition  for  happiness.  I  accu 
mulated  a  quantity  of  proofs  of  this  truth  in  the 
United  States.  The  searchers  after  artificial  dis 
tractions  might  think  the  American  people  had  little 


AMERICAN    TEMPERAMENT      231 

amusement,  for  to  their  minds  it  is  a  sorry  country 
in  which  they  do  not  find  their  accustomed  round 
of  pleasures ;  but  the  countries  most  to  be  envied  are 
those  which  get  their  amusement  without  the  aid 
of  these  sophisticated  joys  so  quickly  perishable. 
America  takes  her  diversion  in  open-air  sports  and 
in  the  thousand  unexpected  fruits  of  a  good-hu 
mour  that  a  busy  life  induces  and  keeps  constant. 
People  of  all  ages  are  very  fond  of  what  they  call 
"  fun,"  which  is  the  endless  series  of  amusing  sit 
uations  that  are  seen  by  the  quick  minds  of  kindly, 
busy,  and  light-hearted  men,  in  the  daily  events  of 
life,  and  the  countless  little  jokes  they  make  out  of 
the  material  thus  come  to  hand — jokes  that  often 
entertain  for  whole  days  a  family  or  even  a  town. 
America  has  a  day  set  apart  for  fun,  when  those 
high  spirits  that  are  the  inventors  of  wholesome 
merriment  and  mirth-provoking  pranks,  receive  the 
homage  of  a  whole  responsive  people.  At  this  time  of 
Hallowe'en  I  was  in  Minneapolis.  After  my  evening 
lecture,  which  had  been  given  in  a  large  church,  the 
Pastor  said  to  me :  "  There  is  a  gathering  of  young 
people  in  a  room  up-stairs ;  would  that  interest  you  ? 
We  ought  to  warn  you  that  it  is  an  extremely  merry 
crowd."  Friend  that  I  am  of  youth  and  gaiety,  I 


232     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

did  not  need  a  second  invitation,  and  a  long  and 
laborious  day  had  disposed  me  for  just  such  an 
end  of  the  evening. 

We  came  out  into  the  brilliancy  of  a  festival  at 
its  very  height.  So  it  seemed  that  while  the  lecture 
was  going  on  below,  up  under  the  eaves  of  this 
church  these  young  people  were  at  their  sports,  and 
it  had  not  entered  any  one's  mind  that  there  was  in 
congruity  in  it.  Everybody  was  in  costume,  and  on 
what  was  evidently  a  temporary  stage,  some  of  the 
merry-makers  were  acting  little  pieces  and  singing, 
while  the  audience  took  an  active  part  by  joining 
in  the  choruses.  It  was  all  very  j  oily,  and  perfectly 
proper.  Those  who  monotonously  grind  out  vulgar 
plays  and  equivocal  songs,  have  no  idea  of  the  in 
exhaustible  riches  in  the  gamut  of  human  gaiety. 
The  source  of  true  joy  is  as  pure  as  heaven  and  as 
exhaustless  as  the  sea. 

What  a  good  hour  we  passed  under  the  gables 
of  that  church !  I  see  myself  yet,  perched  on  a  table, 
a  sort  of  improvised  platform,  from  which  the  joy 
ous  movement  in  the  room  could  be  viewed  at  ease. 
And  looking  out  upon  these  young  men  and  women, 
and  boys  and  girls  of  ten  or  a  dozen  years,  enjoy 
ing  all  this  together,  like  members  of  one  great 


AMERICAN    TEMPERAMENT       233 

family,  you  felt  sure  that  their  pleasure  was  gen 
uine.  At  the  same  moment,  the  same  kind  of  festivi 
ties  were  going  on,  but  with  countless  variations, 
throughout  the  vast  territory  of  the  Republic.  Out 
side  most  of  the  houses  we  passed  on  our  way 
home,  were  lighted  jack-o'-lanterns,,  the  face  of 
each  of  them  a  little  more  comical  than  the  one 
before  it. 

The  Americans  also  have  "  Thanksgiving,"  a  re 
ligious  day,  at  once  a  public  and  a  family  celebra 
tion.  The  idea  of  the  day  is  an  accounting  of  the 
benefits  of  the  past  year,  and  an  appeal  to  steadi 
ness  of  purpose  and  to  gratitude.  The  churches  are 
crowded,  and  the  spirit  of  the  nation  is  strengthened 
and  purified  at  its  source  by  prayer  and  brotherly 
communion.  This  is  the  serious  side  of  the  medal; 
now  for  the  merry  side. 

In  the  homes  the  family  groups  assemble,  and 
the  dinner  of  the  day  is  marked  by  a  special  open- 
heartedness.  A  simpler  and  old-time  touch  is  given 
it,  by  assigning  to  the  head  of  the  family  parts  of 
the  service  that  are  usually  left  to  the  servants. 
Standing,  he  carves  the  enormous  turkey  and  the 
traditional  sucking-pig.  Custom  demands  singing 
during  the  meal,  and  sometimes,  to  preserve  the 


234     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

measure,  he  who  carves  stops  to  beat  time  with  his 
knife. 

May  we  be  permitted  an  anecdote  concerning 
"  The  Simple  Life  "  and  Thanksgiving?  This  being 
a  day  of  mirth  and  festivity,  commodities  have  a 
tendency  to  rise  in  price,  the  turkey  especially 
mounting  sometimes  beyond  what  is  reasonable.  A 
humourous  paper  made  use  of  this  fact  to  bring  a 
disciple  of  the  simple  life  into  conflict  with  the 
tradesmen.  The  caricatures  show  him  going  from 
one  market  to  another;  and  after  each  ineffectual 
effort  to  make  a  bargain  for  a  turkey,  a  pig,  or  some 
other  commodity,  he  exclaims :  "  After  all,  one  can 
get  on  without  that !  "  In  the  end  he  celebrates  his 
Thanksgiving  with  a  sandwich. 


XXXVI 

SYMPATHIES    WITH    FRANCE 

AMERICA  likes  France,  and  a  Frenchman 
travelling    in    the    United   States   easily 
gathers  proofs  of  this  sympathy.  I  my 
self  encountered  numerous  evidences  of  it.  In  the 
first  place,  Lafayette  is  not  forgotten,  but  the  fra 
ternity  in  arms  now  more  than  a  century  gone  by, 
and  the  Frenchmen  who  set  out  enthusiastically  to 
help  America  regain  her  freedom,  are  still  recalled 
with  emotion. 

I  had  discovered  this  before  leaving  Paris,  and 
under  significant  circumstances.  Walking  in  the 
Reuilly  quarter  one  day,  I  ran  upon  a  group  of 
Americans,  who  peremptorily  asked  of  me:  "  Where 
is  the  heart  of  Lafayette?  "  I  took  good  care  not 
to  betray  the  fact  that  I  didn't  know;  these  men 
from  across  the  sea  should  give  me  a  lesson  in  his 
tory.  So  I  said  to  them,  "  Pardon  me,  I  will  tell  you 
in  a  moment,"  and  disappeared  into  one  of  the  con 
vents  of  the  rue  de  Reuilly.  After  a  lot  of  questions 


236     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

put  to  the  inmates — who  proved  to  be  no  better 
informed  than  I — some  one  came  forward  who  said 
that  the  tomb  of  Lafayette  is  in  the  cemetery  of 
the  Picpus  Fathers,  in  the  rue  de  Picpus ;  that  his 
heart  is  not,  as  sometimes  supposed,  in  an  urn  by 
itself,  but  that  it  was  left  in  its  natural  place.  I 
communicated  this  information  to  the  tourists,  who 
were  patiently  waiting  for  me  in  the  street,  and 
we  went  our  ways,  they  quite  content,  I  somewhat 
pensive.  How  many  Frenchmen  know  this  tomb? 
In  the  case  of  Americans,  people  ordinarily  char 
acterised  as  eminently  practical  and  utilitarian,  such 
a  pilgrimage  seemed  to  me  very  touching,  and  I 
have  since  become  convinced  that  the  group  of  men 
I  met  in  the  rue  de  Reuilly,  did  not  make  an 
honourable  exception,  as  it  were,  to  a  general  rule, 
but  was  representative  of  the  average  feeling  in 
America. 

Not  only  is  Lafayette  still  remembered,  but  no 
occasion  is  lost  to  emphasise  the  goodwill  felt  to 
ward  the  sister  Republic.  How  many  times  were 
the  platforms  from  which  I  spoke,  trimmed  with 
French  and  American  colors !  and  at  table,  expres 
sive  of  a  charming  delicacy  of  sentiment,  French 
flags  of  lilliputian  dimensions  often  decorated  the 


SYMPATHIES   WITH  FRANCE       237 

corsages  of  the  women  and  the  buttonholes  of  the 
men. 

Yet  in  spite  of  this  lively  sympathy,,  we  are  too 
little  understood  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic. 
True,  there  are  many  Americans  who  travel  yearly 
on  the  Continent,  and  who  delight  to  stay  in  Paris 
or  on  the  Riviera;  but  an  infinitely  greater  number 
never  leave  their  native  land.  Over  this  tremendous 
territory  of  the  United  States  is  spread  a  popula 
tion  of  eighty  millions,  the  very  great  majority  of 
whom  have  never  seen  Europe,  and  speak  only  the 
English  language.  Thus  it  happens  that  America 
is  really  little  acquainted  with  us,  and  badly  ac 
quainted.  Although  looked  upon  with  favour,  and 
the  recipients  of  a  traditional  goodwill,  yet  we  do 
not  enjoy  a  very  flattering  reputation  in  the  country. 
Seen  from  a  distance,  our  politics  often  appear  ca 
pricious,  unstable,  and  partisan;  the  inherited  diffi 
culties  through  which  we  are  trying  to  find  the 
way  of  the  future,  are  not  sufficiently  well  under 
stood  abroad. 

And  our  morality  is  the  object  of  strange  pre 
conceptions.  By  our  exported  literature,  we  are 
judged  to  be  a  people  without  morals  or  family  life; 
all  France  is  viewed  through  the  particular  medium 


238     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

of  novels  that  skirt  the  perilous,  and  establishments 
of  the  Paris  boulevards  which  are  frequented  much 
more  by  foreigners  than  by  Frenchmen. 

If,  then,  in  spite  of  this  summary  and  unfavour 
able  acquaintance,  our  friends  of  the  United  States 
have  such  a  store  of  goodwill  for  us,  what  would 
be  the  case  if  they  knew  us  better?  For  in  truth 
we  are  among  those  people  who  improve  upon  ac 
quaintance — be  it  said  in  all  seriousness. 

Meanwhile  many  Americans,  the  women  espe 
cially,  are  striving  to  acquire  the  French  language, 
though  with  varying  results.  For  instance,  once 
when  at  the  request  of  a  teacher  I  addressed  in 
French  his  advanced  class  of  young  ladies,  I  soon 
perceived  that  the  expression  of  their  faces  did  not 
accord  with  the  sense  of  my  words.  So  I  said  to 
them  without  ceremony:  "You  certainly  are  not 
following  me."  It  was  true;  they  weren't,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  continue  in  English. 

Elsewhere  I  was  more  fortunate.  Whole  audi 
ences  of  young  women  followed  a  lecture  in  French 
understandingly,  or  manifested  the  greatest  delight 
in  listening  to  stories  in  our  language.  At  Vassar 
College,  for  instance,  I  told  stories  a  whole  evening 
long  to  a  crowd  of  charming  young  people  grouped 


SYMPATHIES   WITH  FRANCE       239 

around  me,  and  I  can  yet  hear  them  say:  "One 
more !  "  Most  of  these  girls  not  only  expressed 
themselves  well  in  French,  but  had  also  an  acquaint 
ance  with  French  literature  by  no  means  to  be 
despised.  They  were  pupils  of  M.  Charlemagne 
Bracq,  our  distinguished  fellow-countryman,  one  of 
the  men  who  labour  most  to  extend  the  knowledge 
of  our  language  in  the  United  States,  and  one  who 
has  founded  a  number  of  libraries  in  which  he  en 
deavours  to  collect  the  works  of  our  best  authors. 
Thanks  to  the  influence  of  the  Alliance  Frangaise, 
there  are  in  many  cities  circles  for  the  cultivation 
of  French,  and  we  often  met  their  members,  women 
especially,  who  were  assiduously  pursuing  the  study 
of  the  language. 

French  professors  in  considerably  large  num 
bers,  offer  private  lessons  throughout  the  country, 
but  the  greater  part  of  them  are  English,  Ameri 
cans,  Germans  or  Russians.  We  had  the  pleasure, 
however,  of  encountering  some  of  our  own  country 
men  who  had  found  the  teaching  of  French  in  the 
United  States  a  very  satisfactory  career.  Among  the 
French  books  best  liked  by  young  Americans  are 
the  romances  of  Erckmann-Chatrian. 

The  people  of  the  country  who  are  interested  in 


240     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

the  progress  of  ideas  in  France,  are  almost  all  ac 
quainted  with  the  name  of  Sabatier,,  but  for  them, 
there  is  only  one  Sabatier.  In  reality,  we  have  three 
of  them:  Armand,  professor  of  biology  at  Mont- 
pellier ;  Paul,  author  of  the  "  Life  of  Saint  Francis 
of  Assisi,"  and  Auguste,  author  of  "  The  Philosophy 
of  Religion,"  and  "  Religions  of  Authority."  These 
three  men  and  their  names  give  rise  to  amusing 
complications.  Accompanying  a  magazine  article  on 
Auguste  Sabatier,  I  saw  the  portrait  of  Paul  Sa 
batier.  As  another  instance,  people  are  moved  to 
transports  of  admiration  over  the  wide  perspective 
of  this  Sabatier,  who  is  a  master  of  natural  science 
and  the  philosophy  of  religion,  and  a  historian  to 
boot! 

After  all,  at  this  distance,  a  confusion  of  names 
is  easily  pardonable.  We  have  such  experiences  in 
France,  when  we  undertake  to  talk  about  promi 
nent  men  of  other  nations.  Then  let  us  rather  con 
gratulate  ourselves,  that  our  triple  Sabatier  en 
joys  such  a  reputation  in  the  United  States. 

At  Albany,  two  ladies  of  distinction,  attached  to 
the  State  Department  of  Instruction,  who  were  my 
hostesses,  said  to  me,  with  a  quizzical  smile:  "We 
are  going  to  present  to  you  a  compatriot  of  yours 


SYMPATHIES   WITH  FRANCE      241 

who  teaches  us  to  pronounce  French."  Thereupon 
they  brought  out  a  box,  with  the  information  that 
here  was  their  little  Frenchman.  It  was  in  fact 
a  phonograph,  with  registers  of  current  conversa 
tions;  and  when  the  ladies  would  accustom  their 
ears  to  a  correct  French  pronunciation,  they  make 
ready  their  "  little  Frenchman,"  who  forthwith  be 
gins  to  talk  with  great  volubility.  I  have  since 
learned  from  the  newspapers,  that  these  Albany 
ladies  were  by  no  means  exceptional  in  their  method 
of  study  by  phonograph,  but  that  it  is  very  widely 
followed. 


XXXVII 

AN    AMUSING    LITTLE    BLUNDER 

I  AM  going  to  tell  you  the  story  of  two  men 
who  played  a  sort  of  hide-and-seek  game 
without  finding  each  other :  the  two  men  were 
General  Miller  and  myself. 

General  Miller  is  an  Alsatian,  what  is  more,  he 
is  from  OberhofFen,  near  Bischwiller,  country  of 
hop-vines,  an  immense  plain  having  the  Vosges  on 
one  horizon,  and  on  the  other  the  sombre  barrier  of 
the  Black  Forest,  with  the  silvery  ribbon  of  the 
Rhine  along  its  edge.  Thus  General  Miller  is  my 
fellow-countryman,  and  after  reading  my  book,  he 
made  several  attempts  to  find  me  in  Paris,  but  was 
always  unsuccessful.  When  my  trip  to  America  was 
resolved  upon,  we  began  an  exchange  of  letters, 
in  the  course  of  which  it  was  agreed  that  General 
Miller  should  show  me  something  of  his  country, 
and  it  seemed  that  at  last  we  were  to  meet. 

The  General  lives  in  Franklin,  where  he  has 
large  business  interests  and  takes  an  active  part  in 

educational  matters,  both  secular  and  religious;  it 

242 


AMUSING    LITTLE    BLUNDER     243 

happens,  however,  that  there  are  a  number  of  towns 
in  the  United  States  named  Franklin,  a  fact  of 
which  I  had  neglected  to  inform  myself;  one  of 
them  is  in  Pennsylvania — the  right  one;  another 
is  in  Indiana. 

Coming,  in  the  course  of  my  tour,  to  Indianap 
olis,  where  I  spent  two  nights,  I  asked  my  host  if  he 
knew  General  Miller  of  Franklin.  He  said  that 
he  did,  that  Franklin  was  only  a  few  miles  distant 
and  might  be  reached  by  trolley.  The  General  was 
at  once  called  up  over  the  telephone,  we  talked  to 
gether,  and  he  accepted  an  invitation  to  luncheon 
for  the  following  day. 

We  met  at  the  appointed  hour.  He  talked  of  my 
book,  I  talked  of  Oberhoffen  and  Bischwiller,  of 
Alsace  and  of  the  old  pastor  who  had  been  his 
teacher  and  was  the  grandfather  of  my  wife.  Dur 
ing  this  discourse,  which  moved  the  Alsatian  in  me 
with  all  the  charms  of  memory,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  General  Miller's  expression  became  more  and 
more  peculiar.  I  halted  and  brought  the  matter  to  an 
issue.  "  You  certainly  are,  General,  an  Alsatian 
like  myself,  a  native  of  Oberhoffen  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"  No,  I  am  a  stranger  to  Oberhoffen  and  Alsace 
alike!" 


244     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

"  Then  it  is  all  the  more  certain  that  you  do  not 
know  old  Pastor  Heldt?  " 

"  I  never  before  heard  his  name." 

"  Why,  then,  you  aren't  General  Miller  at  all." 

"  Indeed  I  am." 

"  General  Miller  of  Franklin?  " 

"  General  Miller  of  Franklin." 

"  How  strange !  In  what  wars  were  you  a  com 
mander  ?  " 

"  I  never  was  a  commander  in  any  war.  I  was 
for  a  long  time  attorney-general,  and  from  that 
fact,  people  have  given  me  the  title  of  General." 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  laugh  over  the 
blunder,  and  we  lunched  together  in  the  best  of 
spirits. 

All  this  time,  the  veritable  General  Miller  was 
asking  himself  what  had  become  of  his  absent- 
minded  compatriot.  Driven  with  work  every  passing 
day,  finding  never  a  quiet  hour  for  introducing  a 
bit  of  order  into  a  correspondence  already  in  hope 
less  confusion,  I  arrived  at  the  end  of  November 
without  making  a  sign  to  the  General,  and  then  the 
accumulation  of  engagements  for  the  few  hours 
left  made  life  so  intense,  that  any  thought  of  an 
escape  to  Franklin  became  chimeric. 


AMUSING    LITTLE    BLUNDER     245 

The  day  of  my  departure  had  come,  and  I  was 
already  on  board  the  Savoie,  when,  at  the  last  mo 
ment,  a  man,  affable  and  smiling,  presented  him 
self  as  General  Miller.  This  time  it  was  really  he; 
he  had  learned  from  the  newspapers  when  I  was 
sailing,  and  had  come  without  delay  to  say  "  how 
do  you  do  ?  "  and  "  good-bye  "  in  the  same  breath, 
an  example,  I  take  it,  of  thorough  good  nature.  We 
had  a  moment  of  fun  over  my  geographical  blun 
ders,  and  I  am  taking  the  first  opportunity  to  ac 
knowledge  them. 


XXXVIII 
IN    THE    CHICAGO    STOCK-YARDS 

I  WAS  going  to  Chicago,  but  I  was  not  going 
to  the  stock-yards;  that  was  an  understand 
ing  I  made  with  myself  long  in  advance. 
After  one  of  my  lectures  in  that  city,  a  portly  man 
with  a  massive  head  covered  with  white  hair,  and  a 
kindly  face,  presented  himself  to  me.  He  spoke 
English  and  German,  manifested  a  lively  sympathy 
with  my  ideas,  and  expressed  the  desire  of  meeting 
me  again,  when,  he  said,  he  should  like  to  show  me 
something  of  the  city,  including  his  own  industry. 
As  I  am  interested  in  the  different  industries,  in  ail 
amateur  way,  to  be  sure,  but  very  seriously,  it  has 
always  been  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  visit  manu 
factories  in  company  with  men  qualified  to  explain 
their  processes,  and  I  gladly  accepted  the  invita 
tion,  already  picturing  myself  among  the  looms  of  a 
great  mill,  or  the  blast  furnaces  of  some  smelting 
establishment. 

Precisely  at  the  appointed  hour,  my  guide  ar 
rived  in   his   carriage;  he  himself   drove,   and  he 
246 


THE    CHICAGO    STOCK- YARDS     247 

took  me  straight  to  the  stock-yards,  for  his  name 
was  Nelson  Morris,  and  he  was  proprietor  of  one  of 
the  oldest  and  largest  establishments  concerned  in 
this  colossal  business. 

As  we  drove  along,  he  told  me  the  story  of  his 
life.  Son  of  a  poor  German  Jew,  proscribed  in  1 848 
for  his  republican  ideas,  he  had  reached  America 
with  very  modest  savings  that  he  had  accumulated 
under  great  difficulties.  He  began  by  peddling  meat 
from  a  basket,  when  Chicago  was  as  yet  only  a 
small  town,  and  his  basket  grew  with  the  city,  until 
it  now  held  within  its  enormous  sides  the  products 
of  ten  thousand  head  of  cattle  a  day. 

The  avenues  of  Chicago  are  long,  and  people 
driving  through  them  may  talk  at  their  ease;  there 
was  time  for  me  to  learn  that  Mr.  Morris  bore  in  his 
heart  the  great  grief  of  a  loss.  At  a  word  we  under 
stood  each  other,  and  my  sympathy  was  quickly  and 
deeply  aroused  for  this  stranger,  speaking  of  dis 
tress  of  soul  so  well  known  to  me.  And  in  his  case, 
no  hope  accompanied  it:  he  was  of  the  number  of 
those  who  have  no  outlook  upon  the  invisible,  be 
lieving  that  we  can  count  upon  nothing  but  what 
are  commonly  called  positive  realities.  He  spoke  of 
his  home.  "  It  is  just  as  we  made  it  when  we  mar- 


248     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

ried,  my  wife  and  I,  and  when  we  were  in  modest 
circumstances.  And  we  shall  not  change  it:  all  my 
memories  are  there."  This  simplicity  I  heartily 
approved. 

We  arrived  at  our  destination,  where  the  attention 
is  first  attracted  by  the  immense  yards  into  which 
the  stock  is  incessantly  pouring  from  all  parts  of  the 
country.  In  passages  between  these  yards,  men  on 
horseback,  prospective  buyers,  move  about  freely, 
that  they  may  better  see  the  quality  of  the  stock. 
From  here  the  animals  go  up  inclined  plains  to 
the  fatal  spot  where  they  are  to  be  sacrificed. 

I  had  a  vision  of  a  torrent  of  beings  swept  on  to 
death.  From  the  vast  plains  of  the  west,  where 
they  had  lived  their  peaceful  life,  countless  herds, 
like  so  many  brooklets  that  are  to  come  together 
into  a  great  river,  were  making  their  way  toward 
the  same  point,  to  end  there  in  a  cataract  of  blood, 
another  Niagara,  that  should  distribute  health, 
strength,  and  life  to  cities  far  and  wide;  all  these 
myriads  of  dumb  beasts  must  die  in  order  that  we 
might  live. 

And  I  mused  upon  all  that  we  humans  cost,  upon 
all  that  goes  into  that  mysterious  matrix  out  of 
which  humanity  springs.  Are  we  worth  so  much 


THE    CHICAGO    STOCK-YARDS      249 

sacrifice  ?  I  wondered ;  do  we  lead  such  lives  that  we 
may  be  said  to  render  an  equivalent  for  what  is 
expended  in  our  behalf?  All  the  interesting  things 
I  might  have  observed  in  the  vast  area  about  which 
we  were  circulating,  faded  out  before  this  insistent 
question  that  had  risen  to  disturb  my  mind.  Cer 
tainly  many  details  must  have  escaped  me,  and  I 
was  entirely  oblivious  to  the  presents  Mr.  Morris 
made  me  all  along  our  progress  among  canned  and 
salted  and  smoked  meats;  but  in  fact,  when  I  had 
left  him,  I  made  the  discovery  that  my  pockets 
were  crammed  with  sausages. 

The  street  through  which  I  was  passing  was  full 
of  newsboys  crying  their  papers,  and  I  made  a  great 
number  of  friends  among  them,  at  the  cost  of  a  sau 
sage  apiece.  I  could  only  regret  that  my  pockets 
had  not  been  more  numerous  and  more  capacious. 


XXXIX 

DEAN,    MY    KEEPER 

WHO  is  Dean?  Dean  is  the  servant  at 
tached  to  the  person  of  Mr.  John 
Wanamaker.  He  has  more  than  once 
made  the  tour  of  the  world,  and  can  express  him 
self  in  a  number  of  languages;  but  he  says  little, 
in  order  that  he  may  the  better  observe  every 
opportunity  for  making  himself  useful. 

Dean  is  English  by  birth,  a  bachelor,  and  the 
very  dutiful  son  of  an  old  mother  still  living  in 
England.  Dean  has  good  eyes,  not  at  all  ironical, 
like  those  of  many  servants  in  great  houses,  behind 
whose  smooth  faces  lie  imperceptible  smiles  that 
speak  eloquently  of  the  emptiness  and  hypocrisy 
of  mundane  life.  Dean  wears  no  mask;  his  face  is 
his  own,  and  he  is  a  somebody. 

On  several  occasions  Mr.  Wanamaker  deprived 
himself  of  Dean's  services,  in  order  that  I  might 
have  him  for  a  guardian,  so  I  learned  to  appreciate 
his  value.  From  the  moment  my  person  was  given 

into  his  charge,  I  belonged  to  him ;  respectfully  but 
250 


DEAN,    MY   KEEPER  251 

firmly  he  kept  watch  of  everything,  and  suffered 
no  infringement  of  the  orders  he  had  received. 

"  Dean,  here  is  the  programme  of  the  trip,  the 
time  of  the  lectures,  the  hours  of  appointments  and 
social  engagements;  see  that  it  is  perfectly  carried 
out !  " — and  the  whole  matter  was  off  my  shoulders. 

When  I  went  to  Washington,  Dean  was  my  in 
separable  attendant;  he  conducted  me  to  the  White 
House,  saw  me  installed,  and  came  for  me  at  the 
end  of  the  visit.  On  the  train  he  paid  me  every  at 
tention,  particularly  that  of  leaving  me  to  myself, 
while  from  the  smoker,  where  he  sat  cultivating 
the  cigar  that  he  loves,  he  kept  guard.  If  I  loitered 
to  talk  after  a  lecture,  Dean  appeared  on  my  hori 
zon,  and  I  saw  the  hour  in  his  face.  So  it  was  that 
everything  passed  off  without  a  hitch. 

I  must  confess  that  on  two  occasions  I  embar 
rassed,  very  likely  even  scandalised  my  guardian. 
The  first  was  at  Philadelphia.  The  day,  which  was 
overcast,  began  with  a  lecture  at  Germantown,  be 
fore  an  audience  exclusively  feminine.  At  its  close  I 
had  an  animated  conversation  with  a  number  of  my 
listeners,  which  threatened  to  extend  itself;  but 
at  precisely  the  hour  appointed  to  set  out  for 
another  meeting,  in  the  centre  of  the  town,  Dean 


252     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

appeared  to  warn  me.  He  led  the  way  to  the  car 
riage,  and  was  already  holding  open  the  door,  when 
one  of  my  questioners,  hoping  to  prolong  the  con 
versation,  came  up  and  begged  me  to  go  in  her 
carriage,  which  she  promised  should  follow  the 
precise  route  of  the  one  into  which  Dean  still  per 
sisted  in  wishing  me  to  enter.  Finally,  not  without 
reluctance,  the  good  man  resigned  himself  to  allow 
me  to  accept  the  gracious  invitation  I  had  received. 
At  first  all  went  well,  and  we  followed  in  the 
wake  of  the  other  carriage;  but  at  a  certain  point 
the  leader  became  embarrassed  in  a  very  narrow 
space  between  the  curb  and  a  ditch  some  work 
men  were  digging  in  the  middle  of  the  street.  See 
ing  that  the  first  carriage  advanced  with  difficulty, 
the  coachman  of  the  second  turned  into  a  side 
street,  promising  himself  to  rejoin  the  other  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment.  When  Dean  became  aware 
of  our  disappearance,  he  was  thrown  into  extreme 
agitation  by  the  possibility  of  lost  time  and  a 
broken  engagement,  and  he  swore  by  all  his  gods 
that  never  again  would  he  permit  the  least  change  in 
the  programme.  Quarter  of  an  hour  later  we  found 
one  another  again,  and  all  was  well;  but  I  had  the 
regret  of  having  caused  my  faithful  mentor  anxiety. 


DEAN,    MY   KEEPER  253 

The  second  irregularity  was  a  breach  of  decorum, 
the  corpus  delicti  being  a  pair  of  gloves.  Gloves 
are  something  I  have  always  dispensed  with  when 
ever  there  was  the  slightest  excuse  for  it,  but  I  have 
worn  them,  in  the  past,  on  great  occasions.  How 
ever,  there  came  a  time  in  my  life  when  I  found  that 
their  presence  on  my  hands  gave  me  a  sense  of 
asphyxiation,  and  not  being  sufficiently  fond  of 
these  useless  ornaments  to  sacrifice  my  comfort  to 
them,  little  by  little  they  disappeared  entirely,  first 
from  my  hands,  then  from  my  pockets — in  fine,  for 
fifteen  years  I  had  not  possessed  a  pair.  However, 
in  calling  on  the  President  of  the  United  States,  I 
believed  it  indispensable  to  wear  gloves,  and  had  ac 
quired  possession  of  a  pair  for  the  express  purpose. 
At  the  moment  when  I  should  have  put  them  on 
to  go  down  to  meet  the  President,  impossible  to  find 
the  gloves !  I  had  left  them  in  Philadelphia !  Dean 
was  visibly  shocked.  I  said  to  him:  "Listen!  I 
am  in  the  house,  I  don't  need  a  hat  nor,  strictly 
speaking,  gloves  either;  besides,  in  the  case  of 
the  author  of  '  The  Simple  Life,'  to  be  without 
them  will  appear  rather  the  application  of  a 
principle  than  the  consequence  of  absent-minded 
ness."  And  I  went  away  happy,  to  meet  my  illus- 


254     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

trious  host,  while  Dean  followed  me  with  a  look 
of  consternation. 

Beyond  a  doubt  he  has  forgotten  all  this  now,  but 
he  deserves  not  to  be  forgotten  himself,  and  as 
one  cuts  with  his  penknife,  in  the  bark  of  a  tree,  a 
name  that  he  wishes  to  preserve,  I  etch  on  this  page, 
with  especial  satisfaction,  the  name  of  Dean. 


XL 

A    VISION    OF    RIVERS 

THE  night  train  was  ploughing  its  fiery 
way  from  Chicago  to  Minneapolis.  The 
berths  had  been  made  up,  the  passengers 
had  disappeared,  and  some  of  them  were  adding 
the  bass  of  their  slumbers  to  the  song  of  the  wheels 
on  the  vibrant  ribbon  of  the  rails.  With  my  head 
propped  up  on  the  pillows,  and  turned  toward 
the  window,  I  lay  looking  out  on  boundless  plains 
that  were  fleeing  behind  us  in  the  pale  rays  of 
moonlight,  where  the  silver  sheen  of  innumerable 
lakes  alternated  with  the  brownish  silhouette  of 
earth  and  wood.  It  is  a  most  comfortable  fashion  of 
travelling  and  viewing  the  landscape,  and  with  such 
vistas  only  half  discerned  through  a  white  veil  of 
mist,  one's  thought  glides  insensibly  into  memories 
or  dreams. 

•*  *  *  *  * 

A  tremendous  vision  passed  across  my  spirit,  of 

which  Niagara,  but  then  seen,  made  the  beginning. 
255 


256     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

With  thunderous  crashings  the  cataract,  sea-green 
and  white,  precipitated  its  avalanches  of  waves  and 
its  whirlpools  of  foam  into  the  gulf  below.  It  was 
like  a  wild  race  for  the  abyss  of  myriads  of  oncom 
ing  waves,  each  uttering  its  cry  as  it  took  the 
downward  leap. 

From  this  quenchless  flow  of  water,  for  ever 
spreading  out  its  marvellous  sheets  and  tossing  its 
spray  full  of  dancing  rainbows,  little  by  little  I 
passed  to  the  vision  of  a  cataract  of  golden  grain. 
This  change  of  scene  was  doubtless  due  to  local  in 
fluences;  were  we  not  rolling  over  the  plains  where 
every  year  great  harvests  of  wheat  spring  up  and 
ripen,  stretching  out  like  great  seas,  with  their  bil 
lowy  yellow  spikes?  were  we  not  on  our  way  to 
Minneapolis,  city  of  mills,  where  the  young  Mis 
sissippi  turns  thousands  of  wheels  ?  A  great  river, 
a  river  of  golden  wheat,  was  pouring  out  upon  it 
ceaseless  waves  that  bore  in  their  flanks  the  bread 
of  men. 

After  this  symbol  of  national  riches,  my  fancy, 
half  in  slumber,  half  awake,  contemplated  another. 
Across  the  plains  of  far-off  Texas,  billowed  a  fan 
tastic  flood  of  cotton,  virgin  as  the  fields  of  Alpine 
heights,  bearing  away,  even  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 


A   VISION   OF   RIVERS  257 

the  wherewithal  to  spin  threads  to  weave  that  fair 
cloth  which  is  a  joy  to  the  eyes. 

And  then  the  milky  river  of  cotton  was  gradually 
replaced  by  a  torrent  of  blood,  that  bespattered  its 
banks  as  it  went.  This  was  the  souvenir  of  Chicago's 
horrid  flood.  Happily  it  but  passed  and  was  gone, 
and  already  from  a  city  buried  in  clouds  of  smoke, 
a  cyclopean  city  seated  among  the  coal  hills,  I  saw 
a  stream  of  steel  outgushing.  It  escaped  from  its 
prison  with  roarings  like  a  tempest,  while  blue, 
green,  and  golden  stars  flashed  and  whirled  along  its 
triumphant  way.  From  its  molten  heart  long  fiery 
serpents  darted,  whose  rings  black  cyclops  riveted 
to  earth,  in  far-stretching  paths  of  iron.  And  the 
flood  of  steel  flowed  on  through  the  cities  and  towns, 
rising  in  skeleton  buildings,  spanning  rivers  and 
arms  of  the  sea,  transforming  itself  into  tools, 
into  machines,  into  ships — a  tireless  creator  of 
marvels. 

At  that  moment, — was  it  the  effect  of  all  this 
molten  metal? — I  was  drawn  from  my  reverie  by 
the  consciousness  of  a  burning  thirst,  and  fortu 
nately  there  was  something  in  the  net  above  my 
head  with  which  to  quench  it — a  store  of  beautiful 
red-cheeked  apples.  As  I  reduced  these  to  refresh- 


258    MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

ing  cider,  the  sense  of  reality  came  back  to  me ;  but 
that  only  made  it  the  clearer  that  I  had  been  seeing 
a  kind  of  vision,  in  which  the  prodigious  wealth  of 
America  was  imaged  in  rivers  not  down  upon  the 
maps. 


XLI 

"THE     SIMPLE     LIFE"     INTERPRETED 
IN    OAK 

BESIDES  the  Western  languages  into  which 
"  The  Simple  Life  "  has  been  translated, 
it  has  had  the  honour  to  be  put  into  Jap 
anese,  a  tongue  destined  to  become  more  and  more 
truly  living;  and  Hebrew,  one  reputed  to  be  dead, 
which  nevertheless  has  remained  for  certain  people 
their  means  of  expression   both  oral  and  written. 
But  a  still  more  unexpected  translation  has  been 
made  of  it,  that  has  given  me  acute  pleasure ;  it  has 
been  interpreted  in  oak. 

The  man  to  achieve  this  work,  Mr.  Stickley,  of 
Syracuse,  New  York,  is  at  once  the  editor  of  a  mag 
azine,  the  Craftsman,  and  an  artificer  who  him 
self  works  out  the  ideas  it  upholds.  The  aim  Mr. 
Stickley  has  set  himself,  is  the  realisation  of  home 
like  simplicity  and  honest  durability  in  furniture, 
and  he  is  also  continually  planning  new  forms  of 
dwellings,  each  more  delectable  and  alluring  than 

its  predecessor.  To  build  houses  worthy  to  be  the 
259 


260    MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

social  centre  of  the  family,  comfortable  and  attrac 
tive,  announcing  even  in  their  exterior  the  peace 
of  home;  to  furnish  them  with  objects  at  once  use 
ful,  practical  and  capable  of  speaking  to  the  heart 
— such  is  Mr.  Stickley's  high  ideal. 

Finding  himself  thus  at  one  with  me,  and  having 
proclaimed  himself  my  disciple,  he  wished  me  to  see 
his  work  and  visit  his  workshops.  This  I  did,  and 
was  highly  interested,  especially  in  the  department 
where  the  wood,  heated  in  vapour  baths,  is  made  to 
give  out  its  own  colour  and  overspread  itself  with 
delicate  natural  tints  no  artificial  colouring  or  var 
nish  could  imitate. 

Mr.  Stickley  has  as  collaborator  on  the  Crafts 
man  staff,  Mr.  George  Wharton  James,  a  tall  man, 
somewhat  pale,  with  black  eyes  and  a  flowing  beard, 
one  of  the  keenest  and  most  virile  personages  I 
encountered  in  America.  He  has  passed  long  years 
amid  the  solitudes  of  the  Grand  Canon  and  the 
majestic  scenery  along  the  Colorado  River;  he  has 
lived  among  the  Indians,  observing  their  customs 
and  industries.  He  has  the  soul  of  the  artist  and 
explorer,  always  originating,  and  puts  into  what 
ever  he  undertakes  a  passionate  ardour  and  tireless 
perseverance. 


"THE    SIMPLE    LIFE"  261 

Mr.  Stickley's  home  is  built  after  Craftsman 
plans  and  principles.  The  living-room,  adjoining 
the  dining-room,  especially  impresses  one  by  its 
original  aspect.  It  is  all  in  wood — ceiling,  walls  and 
furniture,  a  minimum  of  textiles  insuring  a  mini 
mum  of  dust.  From  the  very  threshold  you  feel 
yourself  made  welcome  by  an  air  of  good  cheer 
and  friendliness  that  everything  seems  to  breathe 
forth. 

One  evening,  returning  to  the  Stickley  home,  fa 
tigued  by  travels  and  lectures,  I  dropped  into  a 
great  chair  near  the  fireplace,  where  I  found  my 
self  so  comfortable,  that  doubtless  I  made  a  fer 
vent  eulogy  of  this  refreshing  seat.  The  chil 
dren  climbed  upon  my  knees,  stories  were  told, 
and  a  good  talk  followed.  I  remember  noth 
ing  more  of  this  evening,  save  that  it  was  de 
lightful,  diverting,  and  full  of  cordiality.  Mr. 
Stickley,  however,  took  his  own  way  of  com 
memorating  it. 

After  I  was  back  again  in  France,  one  day  I 
saw  a  mysterious  case  arrive  at  my  house,  large 
enough  to  have  served  Diogenes  for  a  domicile.  Out 
of  its  crated  sides  emerged  the  great  chair  of  the 
Stickley  home,  bearing  under  its  left  arm  a  charm- 


262     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

ing  inscription,  such  as  one  might  fasten  beneath 
the  wing  of  a  carrier  pigeon. 

So  among  my  translations  of  "  The  Simple 
Life,"  I  am  so  happy  as  to  possess  a  chapter  out  of 
the  unique  one  originated  by  Mr.  Stickley. 


XLII 
AMERICA'S    STRONGHOLDS 

THESE  strongholds   contain  neither  guns 
nor  ammunition,  and  yet  within  them  lie 
the  strength  and  authority  of  America, 
the  weapons  of  attack  and  defence  that  have  es 
tablished  her  influence.  They  have  their  seat  in  the 
hearts  and  minds  of  her  citizens,  where  they  seein 
to  me  more  stable  than  if  founded  in  the  rock. 

The  first  is  religious  faith,  so  profoundly  rooted 
in  the  American  character  as  to  determine  in  some 
degree  its  distinctive  aspect,  stamping  it  with  an  im 
print  that  irreligion  or  materialism  are  not  able 
to  efface,  and  that  is  visible  even  in  the  earnest  and 
generous  activity  of  societies  like  those  of  ethical 
culture,  which  hold  aloof  from  all  religious  belief. 
Its  influence,  calm  and  deep,  even  makes  itself  felt 
among  the  indifferent  or  irreligious  mass  of  the 
newly  arrived,  who  are  not  yet  grounded  in  the 
country's  traditions.  Even  the  superficial  observ 
ances  of  men  of  habit,  and  the  studied  devotion  of 

hypocrites,  cannot  invalidate  this  fact,  which  is  so 
263 


264     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

evident,  so  often  verified  in  the  family  and  in  so 
ciety,  that  its  reality  is  not  to  be  questioned.  Amer 
ica  is  twice  religious — by  inheritance  and  by  con 
viction.  She  bears  within  her  the  concentrated  and 
unified  force  of  a  pious  fidelity  to  tradition  and  a 
free  and  personal  communion  with  the  permanent 
fund  of  truth.  Thus  when  the  great  occasions  of  the 
national  life  are  celebrated  by  worship,  or  whenever 
public  men  invoke  religious  sentiment,  it  is  not  by 
way  of  conventionality,  but  it  is  the  expression  of 
actual  opinion.  And  when  the  national  anthem  of 
the  Republic  is  sung,  be  it  by  grown  people  or 
children,  there  is  one  apostrophe  that  vibrates  with 
deeper  emotion  than  all  the  others :  0  God  our  King! 

The  splendid  vitality  of  her  religion  makes 
America  just,  tolerant,  respectful  of  the  belief  of 
others.  When  the  Faith  is  no  longer  anything  but 
an  idea  and  a  formula,  it  becomes  dictatorial,  ex 
clusive,  intolerant  toward  the  beliefs  of  others, 
scornful  of  whatever  is  unofficial.  Anathema  is  the 
menacing  weapon  of  old  and  decrepit  doctrines. 

The  second  of  America's  strongholds  is  faith  in 
liberty.  Oh,  it  was  not  built  in  a  day — that  proud 
citadel  where  the  starry  flag  of  independence  floats 
to  the  breeze — the  flag  of  an  independence  not 


AMERICA'S   STRONGHOLDS        265 

only  accepted,  but  also  proclaimed  as  a  law  of  the 
social  life;  it  took  long  years  and  much  pains  to 
build  that  citadel.  But  it  is  established  for  all  time, 
and  no  one  shall  harm  it.  Our  old  Europe  has  states 
to  show  whose  politics  consists  wholly  in  preventing 
the  normal  development  of  men  and  institutions. 
In  them  law  takes  the  form  of  systematic  prohi 
bition;  initiative  is  charged  with  being  insubor 
dination  ;  independence  of  mind  is  the  crime  of  lese- 
tradition.  The  government's  only  care  is  to  see  that 
nothing  new  happens;  the  fear  of  liberty  is  not 
only  the  beginning  but  the  whole  of  wisdom. 

But  America — America  believes  in  liberty  as  she 
believes  in  God.  And  as  she  believes  in  the  God  of 
others,  in  the  sacred  right  of  every  one  to  worship 
God  as  he  will,  and  form  his  own  idea  of  him,  so 
she  believes  in  the  Liberty  of  others.  And  her  vig 
orous  faith  is  able  to  bear  trials;  she  does  not 
abandon  her  veneration  for  Liberty  because  hateful 
abuses  have  shown  the  disadvantages  of  a  freedom 
too  unconfined.  She  does  not  shackle  honest  men 
because  criminals  prey  upon  their  neighbours;  she 
would  not  mask  the  sun  because  it  produces 
shadows. 

In  politics,  in  religion,  everywhere,  there  is  ven- 


266     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

tilation,  freedom,  the  franchise  for  all  and  a  fair 
field  for  individual  effort.  From  childhood  and  from 
school-days,  character  is  fostered,  each  is  prompted 
to  give  out  all  there  is  in  him,  to  dare  to  be,  to 
declare  himself  in  the  fulness  of  his  originality. 
Only  one  stipulation  is  made,  he  must  respect  the 
rights  of  his  neighbours;  but  on  this  point,  insist 
ence  is  peremptory.  America  never  pardons  sins 
against  liberty.  However  great  and  powerful  those 
may  be  who  monopolise  and  turn  to  their  own  profit 
the  portion  and  the  freedom  of  the  whole,  their  fate 
is  sealed  in  advance.  One  day  or  another,  under  the 
fire  rained  upon  them  from  the  citadel  of  Liberty, 
their  bastions  are  reduced  to  dust. 

The  third  stronghold  is  good  faith.  Do  not  sup 
pose  me  to  say  that  there  are  no  knaves  in  America ; 
in  an  international  competition,  she  would  perhaps 
establish  the  record  for  variety  of  sharp  practices 
hitherto  unrecorded;  but  it  is  only  necessary  to  ex 
change  a  few  letters,  enter  into  a  few  different  re 
lations,  converse  or  work  together  with  people  you 
chance  to  meet,  to  be  impressed  by  the  general  re 
spect  of  these  people  for  a  promise  given.  They 
have  conscience,  and  of  so  loyal  a  character,  that  it 
comes  to  light  in  the  midst  of  the  most  extraor- 


AMERICA'S    STRONGHOLDS        267 

dinary  machinations  of  corruption.  What  among 
many  elements,  and  perhaps  the  better  elements,  in 
some  countries,  is  considered  simply  a  form  of 
politeness,  a  promise  in  the  air,  would  be  looked 
upon  by  them  as  a  lack  of  sincerity.  They  think  it 
kinder  to  make  an  outright  refusal,  than  to  give 
vain  promises  out  of  pity.  No  compliments,  circum 
locution,  or  lavish  protestation !  The  gravest  affairs 
are  often  settled  in  a  few  words.  This  good  faith 
has  something  tranquillising  and  infectious  about  it ; 
it  is  a  perpetual  appeal  to  seriousness  on  your  own 
part ;  it  rouses  confidence,  and  at  the  same  time  calls 
out  your  sense  of  responsibility. 

Certain  expressions  in  frequent  use,  have  always 
seemed  to  me  a  sort  of  current  coin  of  a  people's 
mentality.  There  is  such  an  expression,  often 
heard  in  the  United  States  when  you  have  recounted 
some  happening,  given  information,  or  made  known 
an  opinion — "  7*  that  so?  "  It  is  said  in  a  confident 
and  kindly  tone,  and  at  the  same  time  is  so  frankly 
interrogative,  that  it  is  a  most  direct  and  powerful 
appeal  to  good  faith. 

The  fourth  stronghold  is  respect  for  woman; 
not  that  exaggerated  form  of  it  into  which  those 
Americans  fall  who  treat  their  wives  like  cherished 


268     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

dolls;  but  the  feeling  of  deference  and  considera 
tion  which  puts  into  the  hearts  of  young  men  and 
old,  that  chivalric  reverence  for  womanhood  which 
seems  to  me  one  of  the  most  substantial  elements 
in  the  moral  equipment  of  a  society. 

Under  the  protection  of  this  sentiment,  women 
and  girls  move  about  with  freedom,  everywhere  in 
the  country.  The  public  conscience  is  their  best  safe 
guard,  and  no  one  fails  in  respect  toward  them. 
Thus  their  independence  and  their  personality  are 
better  able  to  develop.  A  part  of  woman's  bondage 
among  us  in  France,  comes  from  the  subjection 
in  which  she  is  held  by  received  customs.  What 
a  deprivation  for  our  young  girls  not  to  be  able 
to  go  about  alone !  What  an  evidence  of  distrust 
toward  the  masculine  portion  of  the  population, 
or  toward  the  girls  themselves !  And  what  a  pub 
lic  plague!  Out  of  it  distils  a  poison  whose  fatal 
effects  are  to  be  found  in  our  education,  our  litera 
ture,  and  our  family  life. 

Nothing  is  more  encouraging  than  to  observe  the 
moral  strength  infused  into  a  people  by  the  exist 
ence  among  them  of  certain  principles  that  are  put 
into  daily  practice  until  they  produce  fixed  habits. 
The  best  work  we  can  do  is  to  contribute  to  the 


AMERICA'S    STRONGHOLDS        269 

creation  in  the  public  mind  of  some  of  these  fun 
damental  convictions  upon  which  the  mentality  of 
the  masses  depends.  May  those  strongholds,  which 
are  the  safeguards  of  vital  energy,  good-will,  in 
tegrity,  and  faith,  ever  stand  firm! 


XLIII 

A    DINNER    WITH    HEROES 

AMERICA  having  but  the  nucleus  of  a 
standing  army,  it  may  truthfully  be  said 
that  in  times  of  peace  her  military  force 
is  invisible.  Nothing  calls  attention  to  it;  nowhere 
do  we  see  either  officers  or  men  about.  I  have  there 
fore  the  more  reason  to  congratulate  myself  upon 
having  met  with  an  opportunity  to  be  present  at  a 
convention  and  banquet  exclusively  military. 

This  was  the  fourteenth  annual  meeting  of  the 
Medal  of  Honor  Legion,  and  it  was  held  at  Atlan 
tic  City.  Mr.  Wanamaker,  who  was  to  respond  to 
the  toast,  "  The  President  of  the  United  States/' 
suggested  that  I  accompany  him,  were  it  only  to 
see  this  city  of  hotels  and  villas,  that  had  sprung 
up  in  a  few  years  on  the  borders  of  the  sea.  I  had 
the  honour  to  be  invited  to  the  dinner  by  Major- 
General  O.  O.  Howard,  the  commander  of  the  Le 
gion  for  that  year. 

The  armies  of  land  and  sea  were  both  represented, 

seven  generals  and  two  hundred  other  officers  and 
270 


A   DINNER   WITH   HEROES        271 

privates  taking  their  places  around  the  table.  All 
were  members  of  the  Legion,  whose  medal  is  be 
stowed  only  by  vote  of  the  Congress.  To  receive 
it,  a  man  must  have  performed  an  act  of  personal 
heroism.  Here  is  a  short  passage  on  the  subject, 
quoted  from  the  post-prandial  speech  of  General 
Estes:  - 

"  In  the  crash  of  cavalry  charges,  in  the  roar  of 
artillery  duels,  in  the  impetuous  assaults  of  infan 
try,  marvellous  victories  were  achieved,  seemingly 
beyond  earthly  power  or  possibility.  Sustained  by 
the  moral  force  of  numbers  and  encouraged  by  con 
tact,  touching  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  comrades, 
our  soldiers  wrought  results  that  gained  for  them 
the  admiration  of  the  world.  Under  radically  dif 
ferent  conditions,  however,  in  most  instances,  were 
the  missions  of  the  Medal  of  Honor  men  accom 
plished.  Voluntarily  they  went  upon  their  ways, 
frequently  alone,  but  always  face  to  face  with  im 
minent  peril  or  death.  To  do  one's  duty  under 
orders  from  which  there  is  no  escape,  is  one 
thing;  to  volunteer  to  do  the  extra-hazardous  from 
a  sheer  sense  of  patriotic  self-sacrifice,  is  entirely 
different." 

The  appearance  and  conversation  of  the  banquet- 


272     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

ers  had  something  imposing  about  them  from  their 
very  simplicity.  No  uniforms  were  worn.  The  talk 
turned  upon  the  past — feats  of  arms  and  common 
memories  to  be  recalled  among  former  comrades, 
now  met  again  after  a  long  separation;  mention  of 
the  dead  and  of  absent  friends ;  humourous  remarks 
and  mirth-provoking  anecdotes.  The  after-dinner 
speeches  had  all  the  same  cast,  at  once  serious  and 
amusing.  Generally  the  speaker  began  by  some 
little  jovial  remark,  or  a  story  that  was  sure  to 
cause  laughter.  General  Horatio  C.  King,  having 
to  reply  to  two  toasts,  in  the  absence  of  General 
Sickles—"  The  United  States  Army,"  and  "  Kin 
dred  Societies  " — began  thus : 

"  Do  not  infer  that  because  I  have  two  toasts 
to  respond  to,  I  shall  claim  a  double  allowance  of 
time.  .  .  .  Nor  am  I  in  the  best  of  trim  to-night. 
I  think  I  have  done  little  else  during  the  day 
than  promenade  on  the  board  walk,  from  Heinz's 
pickles  to  the  Agnew,  propelling  in  one  of  your 
rolling  chairs  an  amiable  lady  who  sits  opposite  me. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  I  am  somewhat  fatigued, 
but  I  hope  I  may  not  be  so  stupid  as  the  young 
man  to  whom  his  employer  said :  '  I  think  you  are 
the  stupidest  fellow  in  New  York;  I  do  not  believe 


A   DINNER  WITH    HEROES        273 

you  even  knew  that  Methusaleh  is  dead.'  '  Dead?  ' 
said  the  fellow,  '  dead  ?  Why  I  didn't  even  know 
he  was  sick.'  " 

It  is  entirely  natural  that  the  patriotic  fibre 
should  be  one  to  vibrate  oftenest  at  such  a  gather 
ing,  but  American  patriotism,  even  that  of  her  war 
riors,  has  nothing  offensive  or  aggressive  about  it. 
Yet  they  never  tire  of  extolling  their  country,  and 
with  reason.  Listen  to  General  Mulholland,  reply 
ing  to  the  toast,  "  Our  Country  " : 

"  I  once  heard  of  a  miner  who  fell  down  a  deep 
pit.  His  companions  on  the  surface,  paralysed  with 
fright  at  the  accident,  called  down,  '  Johnny,  are 
you  killed  ?  '  And  a  voice  came  up  from  the  depths, 
*  No,  I  am  not  killed,  but  I  am  knocked  speechless.' 

"  When  contemplating  the  magnitude  of  the  sub 
ject  that  I  am  called  on  to  answer  for,  I  feel  like 
the  unfortunate  miner — '  knocked  speechless.'  .  .  . 

"  As  we  sit  here  to-night  and  listen  to  the  rush 
of  the  waves,  I  am  reminded  of  a  scene  of  my  boy 
hood.  Fifty-four  years  ago  last  month,  August, 
1850,  together  with  my  father  and  mother,  I  was  on 
board  of  a  sailing  vessel  passing  from  New  York 
to  Egg  Harbor,  and  our  vessel  was  becalmed  for 
a  couple  of  days,  off  this  coast.  .  .  .  There  was 


274     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

nothing  here  on  that  day  except  a  lighthouse,  and 
sand,  and  flocks  of  sea-gulls.  .  .  .  Now,  in  the  short 
period  of  fifty-four  years,  an  ordinary  lifetime,  a 
great  city  has  arisen  here,  with  magnificent  build 
ings  and  large  population,  and  this  city  by  the  sea 
is  typical  of  the  wonderful  development  of  our 
country  in  all  directions. 

"  At  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  we  had  thirteen 
little  States  along  the  Atlantic,  with  three  million 
inhabitants.  When  I  bathed  off  these  shores  in  1850, 
we  had  twenty-five  States,  with  a  population  of 
twenty-five  millions.  At  the  epoch  of  the  War  of 
Secession,  the  country  numbered  thirty-two  States, 
with  thirty-two  million  inhabitants,  of  whom  four 
millions  were  slaves.  Now  we  have  forty-five  States, 
a  population  of  over  eighty  millions,  and  riot  a  slave 
in  the  country.  Ah,  we  ought  not  only  to  love  our 
native  land,  but  to  be  proud  of  it. 

'  '  Our  Country  ' — a  nation  practically  without  a 
standing  army,  and  yet  so  strong  and  so  powerful 
as  to  command  respect  and  admiration  from  all 
other  nations.  It  would  seem  as  though  the  Al 
mighty  had  called  our  country  into  being  in  order 
to  revolutionise  the  world  and  the  government  of 
nations,  and  to  prove  to  mankind  that  the  true  form 


A   DINNER  WITH    HEROES        275 

of  government  is  that  derived  from  the  consent  of 
the  governed. 

"  There  are  those  among  us  who  look  to  the 
future  with  dark  forebodings,  and  tremble  for  our 
free  institutions.  True  it  is  that  our  municipal  gov 
ernments  are  not  all  that  could  be  desired,  and  tales 
of  corruption  are,  unfortunately,  but  too  well 
founded;  .  .  .  but  notwithstanding  the  faults  of 
our  system  of  government,  those  who  love  our 
country  have  faith  in  the  future." 

Accentuating  the  pacific  note  that  characterises 
American  patriotism,  Rear  Admiral  George  W. 
Melville  declared: 

"  We  do  not  want  a  Navy  to  make  war,  but  to 
preserve  the  peace.  It  is  a  hackneyed  aphorism,  in 
time  of  peace  prepare  for  war,  but  in  these  modern 
days  it  is  necessary  in  maintaining  the  peace,  to  be 
ready  for  war  at  all  times.  This  readiness  is  the 
insurance  we  pay  to  preserve  the  peace,  and  it  is 
cheaper  in  money  and  men  than  going  to  war/' 

General  Theodore  S.  Peck,  in  response  to  the 
toast,  "  The  Women,"  said : 

"  Upon  women  in  times  of  war  the  victor  and  the 
vanquished  have  always  leaned,  and  from  them 
have  gained  their  supply  of  the  wonderful  courage 


276     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

of  which  the  history  of  the  world  is  full.  In  all  the 
wars  in  which  the  men  of  this  country  have  battled 
for  existence  and  a  home,  the  noble,  loving  women 
not  only  gave  their  all  (fathers,  husbands,  brothers 
and  lovers),  but  by  their  prayers,  work,  and  sacri 
fice  of  every  comfort,  as  well  as  with  an  uncertain 
future,  nerved  the  men  to  battle  in  such  a  way  that 
no  suffering  or  hardship  was  too  great  for  them 
to  endure. 

"  In  peace  as  well  as  in  war,  the  women  of  the 
United  States  of  America  stand  for  all  that  is 
good  and  true,  and  are  as  ready  to  make  their  sac 
rifices  in  the  future  to  uphold  our  nation  and  its 
glorious  flag,  as  they  were  in  the  past." 

Replying  to  the  toast,  "  The  President  of  the 
United  States,"  Mr.  John  Wanamaker,  recalling  the 
assassination  of  President  McKinley  at  Buffalo, 
said: 

"  A  country  from  sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  moun 
tains  to  the  Gulf,  shook  and  shuddered  at  the  aw 
ful  martyrdom  upon  the  altar  of  liberty,  and  all 
eyes  turned  to  the  young  man  who  stood  next  to 
the  grave  of  the  great  McKinley.  In  the  solemnity 
of  a  great  crisis,  conscious  of  the  overwhelming 
responsibility,  with  great  dignity,  surrounded  by 


A   DINNER   WITH    HEROES        277 

the  old  counsellors  of  McKinley,  full  of  the  spirit 
and  policy  of  his  administration,  this  young  man 
with  the  fear  of  God  in  his  heart  and  love  for  all 
the  people  in  his  soul,  bowed  his  heart  to  God's 
will,  and  bowed  his  shoulders  to  whatever  burden 
it  brought  with  it.  The  years  of  study  and  the 
months  of  the  mountains,  gave  him  a  well-stored 
mind,  large  health,  and  a  ready  hand,  and  the 
heroic  soldier  of  San  Juan,  was  sealed  by  the  trust 
and  homage  of  the  people,  as  the  executor  of  the 
lamented  William  McKinley,  and  still  more,  the 
administrator  of  the  will  of  the  people  of  the 
United  States." 

To  all  the  stirring  echoes  of  this  evening,  that 
remain  with  me  to  show  how  sane  and  vigorous  this 
patriotism  is,  at  once  pacific  and  militant,  hostile 
to  all  militarism,  and  yet  thoroughly  martial,  I  am 
going  to  add  a  few  lines  for  the  purpose  of  em 
phasising  the  religious  side.  For  the  religious  note 
was  not  wanting  in  any  of  the  speeches  of  the 
evening.  I  have  chosen  out  specially  this  passage 
relating  to  military  virtue,  from  the  speech  of 
General  Estes: 

"  Valour,  patriotism,  honour,  manhood,  do  not 
die.  They  do  not  cease  at  the  cannon's  mouth  or 


278     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF   AMERICA 

ebb  forth  with  the  life  blood  on  the  battle-field; 
they  are  not  laid  away  with  the  body  as  dust  to  dust 
and  ashes  to  ashes.  They  are  not  of  the  earth, 
earthy.  They  belong  to  the  soul ;  they  are  attributes 
of  spirit.  And  spirit  is  divine;  it  is  the  breath  of 
God;  it  wears  the  likeness  of  the  infinite,  and  like 
its  divine  Progenitor,  it  is  eternal.  Valour,  patriot 
ism,  honour,  manhood,  are  eternal." 

When  we  left  the  banqueting  hall,  the  ocean  was 
singing  its  hoary  chant  outside,  and  it  mingled  in 
my  remembrance  with  the  valiant  words  I  had  heard 
fall  from  the  lips  of  these  brave  defenders  of  a 
Republic  without  barracks  or  fortress.  These  hours 
passed  among  former  companions  of  Lincoln  and 
Grant,  had  the  effect  upon  me  of  a  baptism  of  fire. 
Something  of  the  soul  of  these  warriors  had  entered 
into  mine.  How  right  they  were  in  thus  apostro 
phising  their  fatherland: 

'  '  Our  Country,'  destined  in  all  the  ages  of  the 
future  to  be  a  bright  example  of  high  civilisation, 
truly  a  light  to  illumine  the  world,  ordained  for 
the  upraising  and  betterment,  not  only  of  our  own 
people,  but  of  the  whole  human  family."  * 
*  General  Mulholland. 


XLIV 
AMERICAN    SIMPLICITY 

WHEN  I  had  my  first  vision  of  Titanic 
America,  personified  in  its  prodigious 
buildings,  its  commercial  undertakings, 
the  fever  of  its  daily  affairs,  its  gigantic  manufac 
tories,  the  luxurious  living  of  some  of  its  social 
classes  and  their  costly  eccentricities,  I  saw  myself, 
with  my  ideal  of  simplicity,  not  as  an  anachronism 
— for  simplicity  is  eternal ;  it  was  before  the  compli 
cated  life,  and  will  be  after  that  is  done — but  I  saw 
myself  in  a  situation  like  that  of  a  lark  which,  in 
stead  of  soaring  above  golden  harvests,  under  the 
great  dome  of  the  blue  sky,  should  sing  its  song 
in  smoky  cities,  in  gloomy  caverns,  or — what  is  an 
other  sort  of  misfortune — in  a  cage  with  golden 
bars.  The  contrast  was  violent  and  painful;  surely 
I  was  bringing  with  me  the  message  of  a  way  of 
life  very  different  from  that  revealed  in  this  forced 
civilisation,  glittering  with  wealth  or  tarnished  with 
squalid  poverty,  that  seemed  to  be  rushing  with  all 

its  might  toward  the  conquest  of  material  welfare. 
279 


280     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

Some  evenings,  when  I  faced  an  exclusive  audience 
brilliant  with  elaborate  toilets  and  gleaming  jew 
els,  a  deep  sadness  penetrated  my  soul  at  the  idea 
that  what  was  the  very  substance  and  marrow  of  my 
thought,  might  be  serving  as  a  moment's  distrac 
tion  for  a  jaded  curiosity. 

***** 

But,  getting  down  to  the  heart  of  things,  I  found 
that  my  pessimistic  impressions  could  not  stand  in 
the  face  of  more  encouraging  experiences.  Among 
the  waifs  and  strays  of  the  Bowery  mission,  as  well 
as  with  the  flower  of  American  society,  following 
a  method  that  has  become  a  second  nature  to  me,  I 
went  straight  to  the  human  centre.  Luxury  and  want 
are  alike  surface  accidents,  the  man  is  to  be  sought 
underneath  them;  we  must  not  dwell  upon  super 
ficialities,  but  turn  straightway  to  the  substance,  and 
the  fundamental  substance  of  "  the  better  Amer 
ica  "  is  simplicity. 

Certain  English,  German,  and  French  journals 
tell  us  that  the  distinctive  badge  of  American  life 
is  artificiality;  but  that  is  to  judge  men's  hearts  by 
the  coats  they  affect,  and  their  ideas  by  the  cut  of 
their  hair.  And  some  critics  have  held  that  the  in 
terest  taken  by  the  American  public  in  "  The  Sim- 


AMERICAN    SIMPLICITY          281 

pie  Life  "  and  its  ideas,  is  pure  snobbery,  the  result 
of  caprice,  without  seriousness  or  sincerity.  All  this 
comes  from  a  partial  and  imperfect  judgment.  A 
man's  deformity  is  not  his  person;  a  facial  blemish 
is  not  a  face.  An  artificiality  that  is  very  obvious, 
and  from  many  points  of  view  offensive,  floats,  it 
is  true,  like  froth,  on  the  surface  of  American  life; 
but  the  sea-foam  is  not  the  sea.  Pilgrim  of  a  day 
on  the  American  shores,  I  went  there  wim  eyes  and 
heart  wide  open,  drinking  in  at  all  the  pores  of  my 
mental  and  moral  sensibilities  those  signs  which  the 
habit  of  observing  men  has  taught  me  to  discern.  I 
looked  at  things  as  a  man  does  who  sees  a  country 
for  the  first  time,  and  is  prepared  to  receive  shocks 
the  more  painful  or  experience  emotions  the  purer 
and  more  joyous  on  that  account. 

Yet  I  was  not  to  observe  as  a  stranger,  for  it 
never  enters  my  mind  so  to  consider  myself  or  any 
one  else;  from  my  standpoint,  nobody,  nothing,  is 
foreign.  I  do  indeed  belong  to  my  own  country,  and 
I  belong  to  it  for  good  and  all;  but  I  also  belong 
to  that  great  Family  out  of  love  for  which  we  wish 
all  nations  and  all  men  well.  With  this  disposition, 
I  was,  it  seems  to  me,  in  the  best  of  conditions  to 
observe  justly,  and  here  I  give  my  impressions. 


282     MY  IMPRESSIONS  OF  AMERICA 

The  artificial  and  complicated  life  that  prevails 
in  America  to  a  disquieting  degree,,  does  not  belong 
to  the  American  character,  it  is  accidental;  but  it 
constitutes  a  danger,  and  one  of  the  greatest  dan 
gers  the  country  could  run ;  for  in  allowing  herself 
to  be  drawn  into  a  life  of  superficiality,  a  life  for 
getful  of  the  soul  and  scornful  of  simplicity, 
America,  perhaps  more  than  any  other  nation,  is 
unfaithful  to  her  very  nature,  that  higher  nature 
wherein  lies  the  secret  of  her  power  and  the  ex 
planation  of  her  existence  among  the  nations — the 
very  sinew  and  spring  of  her  splendid  vitality. 
This  is  the  fact  that  struck  me  in  my  quality  of 
friend;  and  perceiving  the  danger,  it  was  with 
brotherly  distress  that  I  searched  for  all  the  good 
signs  which  might  lead  one  to  hope  that  it  would 
be  removed.  An  evil  recognised  is  often  half  van 
quished,  and  when  by  close  observation  a  man  per 
ceives  that  he  runs  the  risk  of  missing  the  aim  of 
his  life  through  his  irregular  way  of  living  it,  he 
is  very  near  to  changing  his  methods.  Ships  follow 
their  pilots,  and  their  pilots  follow  the  compass; 
nations  have  for  compass  their  faith  and  their 
ideals.  America's  true  ideal  is  the  realisation  of  a 
beautiful  life,  inspired  by  concern  for  the  best 


AMERICAN    SIMPLICITY  283 

things ;  of  a  broadly  human  life,  energetic  and 
benevolent,  powerful  and  pacific,  in  which  con 
science  never  loses  its  rights.  Beneath  the  restless 
ness  that  has  taken  possession  of  the  whole  great 
territory,  a  secret  trouble  is  clearly  perceptible,  not 
equally  so  in  all  cases,  of  course,  especially  among 
the  new  and  imperfectly  assimilated  masses  of  the 
population,  that  enter  as  a  great  disturbing  factor 
into  the  life  of  the  whole ;  but  wherever  we  encoun 
ter  representative  Americans,  men  who  love  their 
country  and  have  a  care  for  the  public  welfare,  this 
secret  uneasiness  comes  to  light.  It  has  no  similarity 
to  the  senile  perturbation  which  class  egoism  and 
the  fear  of  innovations  inspire  in  peoples  long 
established;  but  it  is  akin  to  that  amiable  and  salu 
tary  fear  of  forfeiting  esteem,  which  animates  gen 
erous  youth,  and  makes  itself  evident  even  through 
youth's  impetuosity. 

In  what  is  the  best  of  her,  America  loves  the  life 
that  is  genuine  and  substantial,  the  life  in  which 
the  things  most  highly  valued  are  moral  qualities, 
uprightness,  energy  and  kindness,  as  well  as  those 
fundamental  family  sentiments  that  are  the  cement 
of  society.  She  knows  that  a  nation  lives  neither  by 
gold,  nor  by  armies,  nor  by  industrial  prosperity, 


284      MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

but  that  all  these  things,  in  so  far  as  they  are  good 
and  legitimate,  are  conducive  to  certain  fundamen 
tal  virtues  without  which  humanity  could  never 
advance.  If  the  source  of  these  virtues  be  quenched, 
the  whole  splendid  exterior  of  a  civilisation  soon 
becomes  nothing  more  than  a  luxuriant  fruitage 
that  is  doomed  to  decay. 

This  is  what  the  best  of  the  American  people 
feel  so  poignantly  at  the  present  time;  and  hap 
pily  these  "  best "  are  not  an  over-refined  and  scat 
tered  minority,  lost  in  the  midst  of  decadent  masses 
that  no  longer  possess  any  motive  forces  save  the 
ferments  of  their  own  decomposition;  they  are  a 
countless  and  compact  phalanx  of  upright  men, 
clear-sighted  and  resolute,  impressible  and  fearless, 
possessing,  in  a  word,  all  the  qualities  of  a  power 
ful  leaven  that  is  capable  of  penetrating  and  leaven 
ing  the  whole. 

These  elements  of  public  health  belong  to  the 
old  and  authentic  tradition  of  American  democracy, 
wherein  respect  for  the  past,  a  normal  conservatism, 
and  courage  and  ardour  for  the  future,  are  mingled 
in  such  happy  proportions.  I  was  never  better  aware 
of  this  than  when  I  crossed  the  threshold  of  Inde 
pendence  Hall,  in  Philadelphia,  one  of  the  national 


AMERICAN    SIMPLICITY  285 

sanctuaries.  Built  at  the  very  seat  of  the  cradle  of 
American  liberties,  and  dating  from  the  heroic 
period  of  American  history,  it  saw  those  assemblies 
in  which,  amid  the  most  thrilling  events,  the  future 
of  the  American  nation  was  decided.  Surrounded 
by  objects,  insignificant  in  themselves,  that  have 
become  popular  relics;  within  the  walls  that  once 
listened  to  the  speech  of  the  fathers  and  now  mur 
mur  it  in  the  ears  of  the  children;  before  portraits 
of  the  men  who  made  America,  I  felt  the  most  in 
tense  religious  emotion.  I  seemed  to  be  treading  on 
sacred  ground.  Some  of  the  purest  treasures  of  the 
new  humanity  had  been  elaborated  there,  in  the 
crucible  of  a  great  struggle,  in  the  furnace  of  situa 
tions  in  which  men  and  nations  are  purified  like 
gold.  And  the  whole  environment  was  that  of  a 
patriarchal,  a  heroic  simplicity.  Out  of  the  elements 
there  collected  into  a  focus,  the  heart  of  America 
is  made,  and  when  once  you  grasp  this  clew,  you 
may  follow  it  everywhere  throughout  the  web  of 
the  national  life. 

This  tradition  is  not  a  pious  souvenir,  a  sort  of 
lifeless  relic,  to  be  brought  out  of  its  shrine  on  great 
occasions  only;  it  has  a  part  in  all  the  acts  and  all 
the  interests  of  life.  It  is  a  leitmotif,  constantly  re- 


286     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

appearing  in  the  great  symphony  in  which  the  soul 
of  the  people  is  interpreted.  And  this  national  dis 
position  explains  the  effect  "  The  Simple  Life " 
produced  in  the  midst  of  Americans.  What  the 
President  did  for  this  book,  he  did  in  the  character 
of  a  typical  American,  and  if  his  word,  beloved  and 
authoritative  as  it  is,  had  in  this  case  so  profound 
and  persistent  an  echo,  it  was  because  the  minds  of 
his  fellow-countrymen  were  good  ground  for  the 
reception  of  the  message.  In  spite  of  all  appear 
ances  to  the  contrary,  both  by  tradition  and  by  tem 
perament  America  loves  simplicity.  She  knows  what 
she  owes  to  it;  she  feels  that  if  she  should  escape 
from  the  influence  of  this  vital  and  regenerative 
force,  the  sceptre  would  depart  from  her.  She  takes 
account  of  the  fact  that  young  and  powerful  nations 
become  contaminated  with  startling  rapidity  when 
in  contact  with  the  corruption  to  which  long  habi 
tude  has  accustomed  older  civilisations. 

Her  best  traditions,  and  the  best  of  her  sons  to 
day,  put  faith  in  the  power  of  simplicity,  while  her 
peculiar  genius  and  her  tastes  incline  her  the  same 
way.  In  all  these  things,  America  has  an  assurance 
of  victory  in  the  moral  crisis  of  the  present  time. 
And  in  addition,  the  education  of  her  youth  rests 


AMERICAN    SIMPLICITY  287 

upon  principles  and  methods  that  inspire  the  mind 
with  disdain  for  vanities  and  sophisticated  pleas 
ures.  If  she  brings  about  a  reaction,  as  she  might 
do,  and  as  she  is  doing  already  in  no  small  degree, 
against  the  excessive  repute  that  has  been  given  to 
wealth,  and  against  the  social  usurpation  that  tends 
to  make  it  king  instead  of  the  servant  it  should  be ; 
if  she  takes  every  opportunity  to  rehabilitate  and 
honour  the  men  of  modest  means  who  know  how 
to  attain  independence  and  happiness  by  limiting 
their  desires;  if  the  conviction  spreads  that  pomp 
and  state  are  a  kind  of  slavery,  that  ostentation  is 
a  proof  of  stupidity,  and  irrational  expenditure  a 
social  error,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  future  be 
longs  to  the  better  America. 

For  her  the  message  of  simplicity  is  not  a  re 
actionary  cry;  no  one  who  takes  the  trouble  to 
understand  its  significance,  mistakes  that.  He  sees 
in  it  an  appeal  to  discernment  and  vigilance,  to  a 
regard  for  the  fundamental  hygienic  laws  proper 
to  the  human  creature.  We  are  consumed  by  our 
parasitic  needs,  that  we  have  multiplied  without 
reason  or  limit,  and  by  those  ideas,  unbefitting  men, 
which  tend  to  make  us  look  upon  ourselves  as 
ephemeral ;  as  dust  returning  to  dust ;  as  called  to  a 


288     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

life  of  the  most  incessant  pleasure  possible,  which 
we  may  seek  to  attain  by  any  means,  however  barba 
rous  and  anti-fraternal.  The  simple  life  appeals  to 
us  to  rid  ourselves  of  these  parasites,  to  shake  off 
this  dire  and  unnatural  mental  state,  and  to  restore 
to  the  place  of  honour  the  true  semblance  of  our 
selves.  This  is  the  cry  of  alarm  I  raised  in  America, 
the  cry  I  raise  everywhere. 

It  matters  little  what  country  we  inhabit,  what 
language  we  speak,  what  religious  and  social  faith 
we  profess,  we  are  all  in  need  of  conversion  to  sim 
plicity;  we  all  risk  losing  our  life  by  the  absurd 
fashion  in  which  we  order  it.  When  secondary 
things  are  ranked  with  essentials,  the  artificial  and 
conventional  with  the  natural  and  real,  all  the  out 
ward  splendour  with  which  our  life  may  be  sur 
rounded  is  only  a  magnificent  setting  for  nullity. 

Political,  religious  and  social  institutions ;  science, 
industry  and  education;  the  whole  sum  of  human 
toil  and  effort,  should  contribute  to  make  man  more 
broadly  human;  but  unless  we  take  care,  all  these 
things,  instead  of  being  instrumental  for  the  reali 
sation  of  more  justice,  and  the  introduction  of  more 
order  and  happiness  into  the  brotherhood  of  men, 
become  a  hindrance  and  a  bondage,  and  man  sue- 


AMERICAN    SIMPLICITY          289 

climbs  under  the  weight  of  his  own  deeds,  weak 
ened  and  degraded  by  his  own  misdirected  forces, 
his  instincts  turned  to  vices,  his  knowledge  to  an 
agent  of  death,  his  faith  to  fanaticism,  his  well- 
being  to  degeneracy, — every  function,  private  or 
public,  diverted  from  its  end. 

People  often  assume  to  tell  us  that  we  are 
descendants  of  the  ape,  and  there  are  some  who 
take  a  shocking  pleasure  in  the  idea,  while  others 
find  it  distressing  beyond  measure.  For  myself,  I 
think  it  no  matter  for  either  gratification  or  disturb 
ance.  I  have  somewhere  said  that  I  would  willingly 
be  an  ant,  if  I  might  be  an  ant  after  God's  heart. 
The  paths  of  the  Eternal  stretch  from  the  dust  to 
the  Spirit.  The  distance  is  tremendous,  and  there 
must  needs  be  many  humble  stages  on  the  way;  is 
there  anything  strange  about  that?  It  matters  little 
to  me  what  path  I  follow,  if  only  it  lead  upward. 

What  we  need  to  be  concerned  about  is  not  an 
ape  at  the  beginning  of  the  line — our  problematical 
ancestor,  at  most — but  an  ape  at  the  end,  a  hideous 
product  to  be  evolved  in  time  out  of  our  errors,  by 
"  natural  selection."  To  descend  from  apes  and  be 
come  men,  is  progress,  and  what  progress !  but  to 
be  humanity,  to  have  given  birth  to  Moses,  to  Plato, 


290     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

to  Christ;  to  have  overcome  the  elements,  chained 
the  thunder  to  our  chariots  and  made  the  lightning 
our  messenger,  and  then  to  return  to  the  level  of 
the  brutes,  in  the  ferocity  of  our  feelings,  the  low- 
ness  of  our  instincts,  the  obscurity  of  our  intellects 
— what  a  casting  out  into  darkness !  But  this  could 
not  be!  Let  us  raise  our  resolutions  to  the  height 
of  another  destiny.  Humanity  sometimes  loses  her 
way,  but  her  thirst  always  brings  her  back  to  the 
pure  springs  of  the  true  and  simple  life. 


XLV 

ADIEUX    TO    WASHINGTON 

THE  twenty-second  of  November  was  the 
date  fixed  for  my  return  to  Washington, 
when  I  was  to  give  a  public  lecture  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa 
tion.  It  was  to  take  place  in  a  theatre  on  Lafayette 
Square,  near  the  White  House,  at  half-past  four  in 
the  afternoon.  On  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  my 
French  lecture  was  to  be  given  in  the  White  House 
parlours. 

I  arrived  in  Washington  at  about  eleven  in  the 
morning.  The  French  Ambassador  and  Madame 
Jusserand  had  arranged  an  informal  luncheon,  for 
us  to  meet  a  few  friends.  It  was  a  special  pleasure 
to  me  to  cross  the  threshold  of  the  little  embassy, 
and  find  myself  in  a  house  where  the  pictures  and 
a  greater  part  of  the  furnishings  recalled  France. 
The  affectionate  graciousness  of  my  host  and  hostess 
was  added  to  this  charm  of  the  distant  fatherland. 

During  my  September  visit  in  the  city,  President 
291 


292     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

Roosevelt  had  said,  that  on  the  occasion  of  this 
afternoon  lecture  he  himself  would  introduce  me 
to  the  audience,  but  I  had  not  dared  count  upon 
such  an  honour,  so  far  did  it  surpass  my  hopes, 
and  I  had  never  since  made  any  allusion  to  this 
notable  promise.  On  my  way  to  Lafayette  Square, 
I  thought  over  the  reasons  which  might  well  pre 
vent  the  President  from  being  present;  but  as  I 
approached  the  theatre,  I  saw  that  it  was  surround 
ed  by  a  cordon  of  police  of  colossal  build — those 
American  policemen,  veritable  towers  of  strength, 
whose  size  alone  is  an  element  of  good  order,  and 
who  rise  above  the  crowds  like  rocks  above  the  waves 
— and  I  thought,  "  These  giants  are  not  here  on 
my  account."  In  the  lobby  I  encountered  some 
members  of  the  Association  who  were  in  charge  of 
the  lecture.  "  The  President  has  just  telephoned 
that  he  will  be  here  in  ten  minutes,"  they  said,  and 
in  reality,  at  the  end  of  a  few  moments,  he  arrived, 
with  the  words :  "  I  said  I  would  come,  and  here 
I  am!" 

I  shall  not  describe  what  I  experienced  while 
silently  listening  to  the  words  of  him  whom,  a  few 
days  before,  America  had  retained  at  his  post  by 
a  majority  so  tremendous  as  to  be  unequalled  in 


ADIEUX   TO  WASHINGTON       293 

the  annals  of  the  world.  He  spoke  like  the  head 
of  a  house  surrounded  by  his  own  family.  His 
words,  simple  and  concise,  issued  in  that  clearness 
of  form  that  elementary  truth  takes  on  when  it  is 
interpreted  by  a  right-minded  man. 

Many  American  orators  speak  without  gesture, 
maintaining  a  fixed  attitude,  which  does  not  fail 
to  have  its  impressive  side,  though  so  at  variance 
with  our  habit  in  France;  but  the  President  is  a 
very  animated  speaker,  his  gestures  sometimes  be 
coming  particularly  vehement. 

You  feel  that  this  Chief  of  State  is  moved  by 
an  ideal  at  once  elevated  and  practical,  which  he 
aims  to  show,  in  some  one  of  its  aspects,  on  every 
favourable  occasion.  He  possesses  in  a  very  high  de 
gree  the  faculty  of  translating  the  feelings,  the 
ideas  and  the  laws  of  life,  into  a  universal  lan 
guage.  Every  sentence  he  utters,  every  example  he 
cites,  bears  marks  of  the  higher  humanity,  that 
humanity  which  without  insignia,  or  privilege  of 
race,  nation,  or  class,  makes  the  essential  substance 
of  each  one  of  us.  But  there  is  nothing  vague  or 
indecisive  about  this  thought  of  his,  whose  luminous 
simplicity  make  its  expression  limpid;  and  it  is 
always  practical  and  pertinent,  and  though  rich  in 


294     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

local  colour,  the  human  ideal  is   always   showing 
forth  under  the  national  ideal. 

I  should  have  been  glad  to  reproduce  here,  in 
full,  the  President's  speech,  as  it  was  published 
next  morning  in  all  the  American  papers;  but  the 
very  terms  in  which  the  evidences  of  his  sympathy 
were  expressed,  compel  me  to  refrain.  In  my  heart 
I  preserve  a  warm  and  grateful  remembrance  of 
it,  as  one  of  the  finest  rewards  of  my  life. 


XLVI 

THE    WHITE    HOUSE    LECTURE 

THAT  evening  I  arrived  at  the  White 
House  a  good  half-hour  before  the  time 
of  the  lecture,  and  was  ushered  into  one 
of  the  parlours,  where  Mrs.  Roosevelt  appeared  al 
most  immediately,  and  soon  afterward  the  Presi 
dent.  Made  acquainted  with  the  subject  of  conver 
sation,  Mr.  Roosevelt  recounted  that  both  Mrs. 
Roosevelt  and  he  had  French  blood  in  their  veins, 
being  descendants  of  Huguenots  who  were  driven 
from  their  mother  country  by  the  hardships  of 
religious  persecution. 

Meanwhile  the  guests,  to  the  number  of  a  hun 
dred,  had  been  assembling  in  an  adjacent  parlour, 
where  I  was  the  last  to  be  introduced.  Of  all  the 
feelings  I  experienced  at  the  moment,  patriotic 
emotions  were  uppermost.  To  be  able  to  speak  of 
my  country,  in  my  mother  tongue,  before  an  audi 
ence  so  choice,  was  a  grateful  and  supreme  satis 
faction,  and  I  began  my  lecture  with  the  President's 
295 


296     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

kind  words  in  my  mind:  "  You  cannot  tell  us  too 
many  good  things  about  France." 

There  exists  a  very  old  classification  of  peoples, 
resembling  that  zoological  one  for  the  use  of  little 
children,  in  which  every  animal  is  summarily  quali 
fied  by  a  single  word,  the  tiger  being  ferocious,  the 
donkey  stupid,  the  dog  faithful,  and  the  cat  treach 
erous.  To  those  who  know  and  love  animals,  this 
condensed  science  is  much  in  need  of  revision;  but 
to  uproot  prejudices  is  sometimes  more  difficult 
than  to  remove  mountains.  Ethnology,  as  accepted 
by  the  crowd,  has  decreed  that  certain  peoples 
should  be  hypocritical,  others  of  slow  wit,  others 
worshippers  of  money.  The  French  are  light,  and 
fond  of  a  quarrel.  Our  literature  abroad  and  our 
politics  at  home  seem  to  give  some  colour  to  this 
opinion;  but  it  is,  as  a  characterisation,  incorrect, 
and  that  is  what  it  rested  with  me  to  show.  We, 
as  well  as  other  nations,  have  qualities  by  which  we 
gain  upon  becoming  known  to  intelligent  and  well- 
disposed  citizens  of  other  nations.  To  point  out 
these  qualities  is  not  a  display  of  national  vanity, 
but  a  service  rendered  to  the  general  good.  It  is 
contrary  to  international  interest  and  understand 
ing,  that  peoples  should  be  best  known  to  each  other 


THE   WHITE    HOUSE   LECTURE      297 

by  their  defects;  if  they  knew  each  other  a  little 
better  by  their  good  qualities,  there  would  be  more 
grounds  for  mutual  confidence.  There  ought  to  be 
established  an  international  order  of  the  Knights 
of  Goodwill,  whose  office  it  should  be  to  recount 
of  each  nation  the  best  there  is  to  tell. 

A  little  experience  and  reflection  will  show  us  that 
man  does  not  live  by  his  maladies,  but  by  what  is 
sound  in  his  constitution,  and  that  peoples  cannot 
live  by  their  vices;  it  is  by  their  virtues  that  they 
survive.  France  not  only  exists,  but  she  has  a  per 
manent  influence  in  the  world.  Her  genius,  her 
labour,  her  ideas,  her  taste,  enter  as  an  essential 
factor  in  the  universal  collaboration  of  nations,  and 
evidently  the  position  we  hold  is  not  due  to  our 
lightness.  Then  there  must  be  something  else  in 
us,  and  that  is  what  it  was  my  purpose  to  search 
out  and  bring  into  prominence. 

Back  of  the  superficial  and  excitable  nation,  as 
it  appears  at  a  distance,  or  is  reflected  in  sensa 
tional  novels  and  "yellow"  journals,  there  is  an 
other  nation,  quiet,  laborious,  studious — an  Un 
known  France,  that  goes  far  toward  redeeming  the 
crying  defects  of  the  France  known,  alas !  but  too 
well.  As  a  guest  might  do,  seated  at  night  by  a 


298     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF  AMERICA 

friendly  hearth,  I  thought  fit,  by  the  hearth  of  the 
American  nation,  to  speak  of  this  France. 

I  told  of  our  family  life,  that  is  so  genuine;  of 
our  toil  and  our  thrift;  of  those  courageous  little 
households  in  our  great  cities,  with  which  the  for 
eigner  isn't  acquainted  and  cannot  be,  but  which  it 
has  been  my  privilege  to  see  in  such  great  numbers. 
I  spoke  of  our  peasants  and  day-labourers,  making 
a  comparison,  for  example,  between  matinal  Paris, 
that  the  French  themselves  know  so  little,  and  noc 
turnal  Paris,  that  foreigners  know  all  too  well. 

A  modest  frequenter  of  the  Pasteur  Institute,  a 
friend  of  the  lamented  M.  Duclaux,  and  of  many 
other  of  my  country's  scientific  investigators,  I  de 
scribed  their  unobtrusive  life,  opposed  to  all  noto 
riety;  and  I  gave  a  glimpse  into  those  cherished 
attic  rooms  of  our  laborious  students,  which  Paris 
contains  in  so  great  number,  where  the  scientific 
wealth  of  the  future  is  slumbering. 

Then  I  thought  it  would  be  interesting  to  give 
a  sketch  of  the  great  educational  enterprises  in 
the  various  grades  of  public  instruction,  which  the 
Third  Republic  has  undertaken,  in  the  midst  of 
countless  obstacles,  and  with  such  admirable  abne 
gation.  And  in  passing,  I  framed  in  this  setting  a 


THE   WHITE    HOUSE    LECTURE 

picture  of  one  of  the  best  teachers  of  all  the  ages, 
Felix  Pecaut,  to  whom  public  homage  has  been 
rendered  at  the  nation's  tribune,  but  whose  finest 
eulogy  is  the  vital  impression  left  deep  in  the  hearts 
of  his  disciples. 

Having  long  gathered  documents  concerning  so 
cial  work  in  France,  I  drew  attention  to  the  things 
private  initiative  has  achieved  in  this  domain.  Then 
I  thought  fit  to  mention  that  enterprise  for  the 
promotion  of  intercourse  and  collaboration  among 
men  of  goodwill  in  the  different  social  grades,  that 
began  to  take  shape  twenty  years  ago  in  a  series 
of  mutualities  that  have  brought  mental  and  man 
ual  workers  into  contact  with  one  another.  Among 
the  pioneers  of  this  fine  undertaking,  I  mentioned 
the  late  M.  Fallot,  sketching  the  life  of  this  valiant 
son  of  Ban-de-la-Roche,  in  whom  the  spirit  of  the 
great  Oberlin  seemed  to  be  reincarnate. 

Could  I  omit  to  mention  an  undertaking,  unique 
of  its  kind,  that  has  succeeded  in  establishing,  in 
the  heart  of  our  troubled  and  discordant  time,  a 
meeting-ground  for  courteous  discussion  and  mu 
tual  information  among  well-disposed  men  coming 
from  all  the  horizons  of  thought?  Here  I  spoke 
of  the  "  Union  for  Moral  Action,"  that  broad  and 


300     MY  IMPRESSIONS   OF   AMERICA 

comprehensive  work  which  has  in  it  the  possibilities 
of  a  splendid  contribution  to  the  moral  progress  of 
France. 

In  short,  for  fully  an  hour  I  had  the  privilege 
of  speaking  of  the  serious  France  that  toils  and 
acts  beneath  the  troubled  exterior  of  our  public 
life;  of  a  France  calm  and  eager  for  good  under 
standing  among  her  citizens,  seeking  for  unity  of 
intention  in  diversity  of  origin  and  of  parties; 
building  her  city  in  a  constant  effort  toward  j  ustice 
and  goodwill. 

*  *  *  *  * 

The  lecture  was  followed  by  a  very  cordial  recep 
tion,  happy  ending  of  a  happy  day,  and  fit  impres 
sion  with  which  to  close  these  recollections. 
***** 

The  first  of  December  I  found  myself  on  board 
the  Savoie,  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of  friends 
who  had  come  to  wish  me  bon  voyage.  The  last  to 
leave  the  deck,  when  the  vessel  was  already  being 
loosened  from  her  moorings,  was  Mr.  Wanamaker. 
With  flocks  of  sea-gulls,  symbolic  of  the  wishes 
and  remembrances  that  accompany  the  voyager, 
spreading  their  great  wings  above  our  tumultuous 
wake,  I  sailed  away,  feeling  that  I  had  been  visit- 


THE   WHITE    HOUSE   LECTURE     301 

ing  one  of  the  countries  where  the  most  substantial 

of  Humanity's  resources  are  in  store.  ^ 

***** 

Now  our  ship  turns  toward  the  rising  sun,  and 
the  farther  we  sail,  the  more  clearly  do  loved  faces 
emerge  out  of  the  shadow  of  distance,  and  thoughts 
of  home  take  shape;  but  over  all,  with  more  and 
more  insistence  as  the  hours  pass  by,  looms  the 
image  of  the  Patrie. 

Of  old,  France  helped  to  establish  the  Govern 
ment  of  the  United  States;  now,  with  how  many 
problems  and  obstacles  is  her  beautiful  ideal  of 
democracy,  victorious  across  the  sea,  still  forced  to 
struggle  at  home !  If  moral  aid  and  inspiring  exam 
ple  come  to  her  from  nations  once  fructified  by  her 
genius,  it  is  only  just;  when  the  harvests  are  ripen 
ing  is  the  moment  to  recall  and  honour  the  sower. 

In  the  glimmers  of  thy  beacons,  shining  afar  in 
the  ocean  night,  I  salute  thee,  beloved  France,  in 
defatigable  sower,  that  no  inclemency  of  sky  and 
no  rude  season  has  ever  spared,  yet  who  art  ever 
found  among  the  pioneers  of  the  better  future,  thy 
hand  on  the  plough,  and  thy  forehead  crowned 
with  hope! 

THE    END 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


aw 


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